


Copyright }) 0 


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By Richard A . K city 



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Broadway Publishing Company 
835 Broadway , cA£en> 


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Copyright, 1909 . 

BY 

RICHARD A. KELTY 


Alt Rights Reserved 


2 48 6 6 


QUAKER JIM. 
CHAPTER I. 


As the gentle cows slowly wended their way 
homeward, picking a bit of grass here and there, 
as the old cock cooed his mates to their perch 
and as the little lambs on the hill top bleated their 
farewell to the parting day, there was heard a 
fierce growl from “Old Shep,” the faithful house 
dog, which always gave a forewarning that 
something was approaching foreign to the place. 
Could Shep be mistaken? John Fox came out 
on the porch glanced hastily up and down the 
road, turned on his heel and walked back into 
the house. No, if Mr. Fox had been a little more 
careful in his observations he would have seen, 
as old Shep saw, a man approaching across the 
field for the Fox homestead. John Fox had 
hardly closed the door when Shep gave another 
growl. “Dad burn the plegged dog, what does 
he mean anyhow? I jest looked out thar an saw 
nuthin’.” “John ye’d better look agin, Shep 
hain’t growlin’ fer nuthin, maybe some uv them 
Kirt>y chaps air out thar fer somethin’.” “No it 
hain’t Mandy; ef it wuz he would’ent growl at 
’em. Ole stray sow got in here I reckon. I wush 
the Squire would keep his poor hogs at home.” 
Another growl and Shep bounded off of the 
porch barking ferociously, bringing John Fox 


2 Quaker Jim 

and Mandy, his wife, both to the door. “Why 
John it be a stranger, I never seed that man 
afore as I knows on.” “Some ’fernal ole ped- 
dler wants to pester the daylights outen ye.” O ! 
ef he be a peddler, I meas ter git several things I 
need bad, fer instance : hair pins, curlin’ irons, 
tea towels an spoons an they tell me they make a 
sartin kinder powder so that when ye put it on 
yer face ye look ten yar younger. Maybe he’s got 
some uv that.” “Tut, tut, ye don’t more’n see 
one uv ’em swindlers in sight afore ye com- 
mence about this, that, an tuther, ef ye need 
these things go down ter the store an git ’em, 
they cheat ye enuf, without havin’ every scalawag 
in the country doin’ it.” By this time Shep had 
ceased to bark and now began to rear upon the 
stranger in great joy, for it was evident that 
Shep recognized him. Mandy and John did not 
understand this as no stranger was permitted to 
come in the yard while Shep was there. The 
man walked slowly to the porch, gently patting 
Shep on the head with his left hand while in 
his right he carried a stick thrown across his 
shoulder at the end of which was tied a bundle 
in a red handkerchief. The man looked to be 
about fifty years of age, rather short and flashy; 
his hair was very gray and long, his face smooth 
shaven, with a penetrating blue eye and a smile 
which invited confidence and made you his friend 
at once. He wore a dark suit of clothes, coat 
long, and a broad brimed hat, which made him 
have the appearance of a minister. He had a 
low clear voice and he used the dialect of a 
Quaker. The stranger knew Mandy and John 


Quaker Jim 


3 


at once but he was not recognized by them. 
“Good evening to thee, does Mr. Fox live here?” 
“Good evenin’. Yes Sir this be him, any ’ticular 
business?” “I heard at the village thee would 
let me stay a night with thee and as this is on 
my way, I thought if thee would permit me, it 
would be more comfortable than stopping at the 
village hotel.” “Wa’al I reckon ye could bunk 
here fer the night ef it suits ye, 1 don’t lack ’em 
hotels any too well myself, fer the time the 
skeeters an ’em other critters gits a square meal 
offen ye thar hain’t much time fer sleepin’. Grub 
hain’t any too fine here, though what ye git sticks 
ter yer ribs, and I guarantee agin skeeters.” “I 
will assure thee I will be much pleased regard- 
less of the misquitoes even though they should 
be here.” “I reckon ye may as wells ter come 
in, time ye wash up a bit Sarah'll have supper 
ready an a little snack won’t do ye no harm.” 
“I hav’ent eat a thing since leaving Louisville 
this morning.” “Very well, jest come right in 
an make yerself ter home.” 

John showed the way into the parlor, Mandy 
following behind the stranger scrutinizing every 
step and action. “Shorely ter grecous I seed that 
man afore, his step ’pears fermillar, his face 
looks a great deal lack Jim Fox’s. Tain’t him 
though, kays Jim’s been gone ten yars an nuthin’ 
ever been hear’n on him. John says he’s dead an 
I reckon he be an the ole Nick done got him 
long go. The thing I can’t bring clar ter my 
mind is Shep makin’ up wuth him so quick. Shep 
never done nuthin’ lack that to a strange crit- 
ter afore in all his life time, an it makes it ’pear 


4 


Quaker Jim 


mouty ’sticious I kin tell ye.” Depositing his 
stick and bundle, John took the stranger to a lit- 
tle passage which separated the house proper 
from the kitchen where there was a bench on 
which sat the bucket and pan with the soap in a 
little box tacked to the door frame and the towel, 
mirror and comb hardby. 

Was this the first time the visitor had been 
here? Many was the time he had washed his 
face at the same place, time and time again he 
had sat in the same passage on summer nights 
and played his violin, till Nellie Gray, then a lit- 
tle girl, fell to sleep and many a time he had 
pulled his gun off of its rack to take a hunt with 
old Shep. He glanced up to where it hung and 
there he found it just as he had left it ten years 
before. He could hardly refrain from taking it 
down and calling Shep, but no he could not do it 
for that would tell who he was, so he bathed his 
face and returned with John to the parlor. 

Whilst John and his guest was in the passage 
Mandy hurried to the kitchen where Aunt Sarah, 
the faithful old darky, was hastily engaged in 
preparing supper. ‘'Sarah fer goodness sake put 
on another plate an cook a few more biscuits, 
thars a strange here fer supper an I b’live in my 
soul he knows more ’bout this place than he lets 
on. Take that red table cloth off an put on a 
white one, we don’t want him ter set at the table 
wuth that old thing fer I don’t spect he be ust ter 
it.” “What’s dat mans name Misses?” “I don’t 
know what his name be Sarah, John would’ent 
have gumption enuf ter ax him ef he never told, 
mout be some un ’em lords er dukes ye hear ’em 


Quaker Jim 


5 


talk so much about in the paper got out here an 
lost hissef. Indeed he talks awful queer. John 
says its bad manners ter ax a stranger his name,” 
continued Mandy, ‘‘but manners er no manners 
he’d hafter mozy out wuth his name an that 
purty quick ef I wuz a man.” “Why did’ent yo’ 
ax him Misses?” “That’s no question ter ax a 
lady its all tergether outen place fer a lady ter 
ax a stranger their name so soon arter seein’ 
’em.” “Ain't it jest as bad fo’ a man as a wom- 
an?” “Why its the mans place ye ijot, less he 
tole it hissef. I would ’er ax him anyhow ef 
John could ’er held his tongue a few minutes 
stider let it run ’bout bugs an skeeters.” “Fo’ 
de laws sake Marse John knows dars no mo’ bugs 
on dem beds dan de is on his ole shirt, kays I 
scawleded eber slat in dem beds no longer den 
las’ spring.” 

Aunt Sarah was almost as broad as she was 
long and her face black as her eyeballs were 
white. She was a very active old darky despite 
her sixty years of age and enormous size. She 
had been with the Fox family from infancy, her 
mother being a slave of John Fox’s father and 
grandfather. Thus she acted the sole mistress 
of the Fox homestead when John or Mandy was 
not present. Aunt Sarah was one of those old 
darkies who took great pride in the neatness of 
her house keeping and no one dare utter a word 
against it lest they fall a victim of her ever ready 
tongue, consequently when Mandy told her of 
John speaking of the misquitoes, and bugs, 
though he was innocent of accusing Sarah, never- 
theless, it started her off like a wound up clock. 


6 


Quaker Jim 


“I don’t see what ole Marse John wants to say 
dat fo’,” thus she soliloquized, “he’s always 
showin’ off fo’ strange folks, thinks he’s smart. 
If dars any chinches in dis house he brung ’em 
hyar, dats what he done, got ’em outen dat ole 
buggy he’s been flyin’ ’roun’ in fo’ he las’ twenty 
yars. I tole him fo’ to git a new one ten yars 
ago dat dar ole thing looks chinchy, but pshaw ! 
he won’t do it he’s too stingy fo’ to buy a suit uv 
clothes let alone a buggy. Well Sar, ever time I 
sees him in dat buggy an dat little ole gray hoss, 
I jes’ nearly splits my bofe sides, he! he! an dat 
suit uv clothes, well, it fits him ’bout like one uv 
dem curcus fellers George Washington took me 
to see one time. Don’t reckon I ever will fergit 
de time he come home from de weddin’ an got in 
the rain wid dat suit on, she war drawed up so 
tight I thought ole Marse neber would git it off. 
I hear’n him gruntin’ an puffin’ up dar an I 
thought I would jes’ die, eber time old Marse 
would pull, you could hyar sumpin’ tare then 
uv all the gruntin’ and cussin’, Oh My! Scat 
outen dar yo’ black rascal yo’ jes’ lack ole Marse 
always meddlin’ ’roun’ I’ll take a stick an break 
yo’ black back, dats what I’ll do.” Sarah would 
take her spite out on the cat or Shep whenever 
she got her temper up and this time the poor cat 
was the victim. 

The Fox homestead was one of those old fash- 
ioned country homes with the large porch in front 
and the vines twining around its long standing 
posts, the front door led you into a hall which 
ran through the center of the house. The right 
front room was the parlor, while directly oppo- 


Quaker Jim 


7 


site was the family room. The house consisted 
of twelve large rooms, with six down stairs and 
six above, every room had its wide fire place and 
tall mantel which was very stylish at the time the 
house was built. The house set about one hun- 
dred yards off the pike leading to Springfield, on 
a little knoll, the drive way entering the place was 
shaded by beautiful oaks, that had been there 
long before any of the present occupants. The 
walk way from the pike to the house was of fine 
gravel with large pointed rocks put into the 
ground on either side. It likewise was shaded 
with majestic oaks with an occasional rose bush 
planted here and there to add beauty to its grace- 
ful course. The yard was kept pretty with a 
carpet of Kentucky’s famous blue grass, and 
was always kept in order by Old Teebe who took 
an especial interest in the lawn. The farm had 
been left to John and James with the understand- 
ing that Teebe, their father’s youngest brother, 
should always have a home with them. Now 
Teebe did’ent have a mind that would entitle 
him to a seat in the United States Senate, on the 
other hand, he in his childish simplicity told 
things as they appeared to him and would often 
embarrass the family very much when least ex- 
pected. Just what he thought about you, out it 
would come making no difference whether good 
or bad; so Teebe was kept out of the company 
room when ever possible. He did the light work 
around the house, such as milking the cows, 
gathering the eggs, and getting the fire wood. 
Teebe was a great lover of flowers and he would 
work among them for hours if left undisturbed. 


8 


Quaker Jim 


It was very seldom he was permitted to pursue 
his favorite occupation, for Aunt Sarah kept him 
in continual “hot water.” She naturally had a 
dislike for him and on every occasion she had 
a chance to start a quarrel she was sure to take 
advantage of the opportunity. It was sometimes 
amusing to hear Teebe and Sarah into one of 
their spats. Teebe had a long whining voice that 
was’ent much above a whisper, while you could 
hear Sarah for quite a distance if she cared to 
let herself out. 

John Fox or “Uncle Snort,” as he preferred 
to be called, was a large man weighing about 
two hundred and twenty pounds. Tall and 
slightly stooped shouldered with gray hair and 
light complexion. Although the secret laughing 
stock of his neighbors, because of his much 
boasted bravery by himself, nevertheless, being 
the most wealthy man of his neighborhood and 
of a very charitable disposition his opinions were 
always respected, except by Mandy, his wife, 
who was the sole mistress of the Fox household. 
It was with a story of his great bravery that we 
found him seemingly entertaining his visitor in 
the parlor. “What part uv the country did ye 
say ye come frum?” John asked the stranger. 
“I came here from Cincinnati, but my home is in 
Pennsylvania.” It made no difference whether 
he came from Africa or Indiana, Snort knew but 
little of any place except his immediate neigh- 
borhood so he promptly asked the question, “Any 
Injuns thar?” “No there are no Indians, the 
population is a mixed one but there are some 
classes working in the mines who are far worse 


Quaker Jim 


9 


than Indians.” “What sort uv people be they?” 
Snort asked. “Principally Pollocks some of 
whom are very nice people.” “They hain’t in it 
with Injuns kays I've seed both many times and 
had truck with ’em, an I kin tell ye I druther 
fight all uv Rooshie than one Injun, though I’m 
not sceared uv nuther one uv ’em furs that’s con- 
sarned, fer I reckon I’m ’bout the bravest man in 
these parts, least that’s what everybody says.” 
“If people talk of thy bravery thee must be a 
fearless man indeed. My bravery is not much 
boasted,” continued the visitor, “but if they 
crowd me too closely I can give them a splendid 
run either on pike or dirt road.” “Speakin’ ’bout 
Injuns,” Snort said, “when I was a poor boy I 
herded cattle out in the Injun Territory, an we 
would be gone fer months on ’em prairies with- 
out a house fer miles around er a shelter uv any 
kind ter pertect us frum the rain an winds an 
we hardly ever seed a human bein’ outside uv 
ourselves an rovin’ Injuns. So one night I was 
settin’ tliar by myself smokin’ my pipe an thinkin’ 
uv my folks in 'Ole Kentuck’ when I hearn a 
kinder uv a mutterin’ that I could’ent quite make 
out. I looked fust one side then tuther but 
could’ent see har ner hide uv nuthin’. Fust thing 
ye know I hearn ’em go hoof ! hoof ! oof ! I 
looks an thar wuz more’n a hundred Injuns 
chargin’ on me from the west, with their toma- 
hawks glitterin’ in the moonlight an their teeth 
chatterin’ lack a wild cat fightin’. The boys had 
all gone ter a dance an thar I wuz by myself 
with nuthin’ ter hep me. 1 had my pistol, but 
bein’ so fergitful anyhow, I did’ent know what 


io Quaker Jim 

on earth ter do. Bein’ naturally witty, I thinks 
uv a stratergem. I jest let ’em come purty close 
ter me an when they got in about ten steps, what 
do ye think I done?” “I could’ent say, though 
thee did run I am sure.” “No Saree I jest fell 
down on my knees an hands an commenced ter 
growl lack a bar.” “What did the Indians do?” 
“Wa’al Sar they tucked their feathers an skitted 
across ’em prairies lack so many whopped dogs 
an when the boys come back frum the dance, they 
said it wuz the greatest trick they ever hear’n tell 
on ter rid Injuns, so they took me over ter the 
tavern an we all had a drink uv the best stuff in 
the house.” “Well I declare, that is first rate,” 
said the stranger. “Say there was’ent a house 
for miles?” “No Saree, thar wuz’ent as much 
as a hornets nest let alone a house.” “Did thee 
not say thee walked over to a tavern and got a 
drink?” John scratched his head and gave a 
simple grin. “Wa’al ye don’t seem ter under- 
stand much ’bout prairies I kin see that very 
plain. The tavern wuz ter the north uv the 
plains I wuz speakin’ ’bout the south, east and 
west, not the north, moreover, I kin prove it wuz 
ter the north kays ye very seldom see a saloon 
ter the south uv a prairie on the account uv the 
tremenjus heat an cyclones, er on the east on the 
account uv the hot mornin’ sun absorbin’ all the 
liquors an wastin’ it as rain, er on the west on 
the same account uv the evenin’ sun because ye 
kin always notice when the sun’s goin’ down at 
night it gits much bigger an consequently has a 
good deal more power, ’specially out thar kays 
that place is closer ter the sun than we be.” Here 


Quaker Jim 


ii 


John gave what he thought a good example of 
the powers of the sun. “Jest lack a little baby 
when lie’s born he hain’t very strong is he? but 
when he gits older he’s a little stronger, an when 
he gits ter be a man he has his full strength 
hain’t he?” “Yes.” “Wa’al it’s the same thing 
with the sun an that’s why they always set the 
tavern ter the north don't yer see?” “Thee said 
they did not put them to the south because of 
cyclones, don’t thee think the cyclone could sweep 
across the prairie and destroy the tavern?” “My 
poor foolish man don't yer know that all cyclones 
comes direct by way uv the southwest an don’t 
ye know the time it gits across the prairie the 
hills an trees has got it all broke up?” After 
this explanation our friend gave it up it was 
evident to him that Snort was still handy telling 
stories and giving examples, so he simply said: 
“I really never thought of that.” 

John was congratulating himself on his wit 
when Old Teebe who was out in the hall listen- 
ing to the conversation came walking slowly into 
the room. He advanced to the visitor and viewed 
him from head to foot, finally he said : “Do ye 

b’live what Snort tole ye be true ?” “I have no 
right to contradict him.” “Ye be a stranger 
’roun’ here ain’t ye?” “Yes I am a stranger.” 
“Whar did ye come frum?” “Pennsylvania.” 
“Whar be that?” “In the East.” “Be the peo- 
ple thar very smart?” “Some are and some are 
not.” “Wa’al air ye very bright?” “I have seen 
a great many more intelligent,” the visitor said 
with a smile. “I jest wanted ter tell ye,” said 
Teebe, “I hearn Snort talkin’ ter ye ’bout fightin’ 


12 Quaker Jim 

Injuns, now that be a mistaken he never wuz 
over a hundred miles away frum here in all his 
life time, an I know the Injun spot he’s talkin’ 
about must be at least a million an ’sides he won’t 
fight no how, Kays Bill Jones got atter him ’bout 
a ole cow month or so ago an Snort jumped in 
his buggy an jest flew home an he ain’t passed 
Bill's house sence ner hain’t agoin’ ter nuther.” 
When Teebe told this he left the room as he en- 
tered, leaving Snort in a fit of anger, and the 
stranger with all he could do to keep from laugh- 
ing for how well he knew Teebe spoke the truth. 
John’s anger abated and the veins in his neck 
became normal, he told the man not to pay any 
attention to Teebe, that he was getting old and 
childish and he “wuz’ent very pwert anyhow,” 
as Snort termed it. The gentleman assured 
Snort he took no notice of what Teebe said, but 
merely pretended to be interested to please the 
old fellow. Snort was preparing to burst forth 
into another glowing tale of his bravery, when 
Mandy yelled at the top of her voice to “come to 
supper” much to the delight of the visitor who 
could have enjoyed a good meal much better 
than all the Indian tales Snort could have told 
in a life time. John showed the way through the 
wide hall and across the passage into the dining 
room. The blessing being over and likewise a 
dozen excuses from Mandy “not bein’ prepared” 
our friend fell to and ate a hearty meal so much 
so that Aunt Sarah who waited on the table de- 
clared, “she b’lived in her soul clat man jest got 
outen jail fo’ bof’ uv her hands war plum stiff 
frum handin’ victuals.” 


Quaker Jim 


13 


Supper being served rather late they all re- 
tired shortly after. The stranger was shown to 
a back room up stairs and John told him that 
was his brother’s room when he stayed home. 
“Where is thy brother now Mr. Fox?” the visitor 
asked. “Lord only knows, I don’t, we had a little 
trouble, he left, and we ain’t hearn uv him since.” 
The stranger changed the subject by complaining 
of being tired and worn out. John pulled a bottle 
from the bureau drawer offering the man a drink, 
after he had indulged himself, but which he very 
politely refused. John placed the bottle back in 
its place, telling the gentleman not to mention it 
to his wife and bade him good night. 


14 


Quaker Jim 


CHAPTER II. 

In a depot of New Orleans one night, there 
was seated an elderly looking gentleman sup- 
posedly interested in an afternoon paper. Di- 
rectly in the rear of him were two young men. 
One looked to be about twenty-three years of 
age while the other was twenty-five or six The 
younger, a tall black haired handsome fellow, 
was telling the other of a trip to Kentucky he 
was preparing to take. “So you are going 
Leslie?” the senior gentleman said. “Yes, I in- 
tend to start to-morrow Bert. I don’t care what 
may happen, I am going and I will get some satis- 
faction for the mistreatment James Gray heaped 
upon me,” spoke the younger of the two. “Don’t 
you know James Gray is not in Kentucky, he is 
an officer, my dear boy, in the Navy and lie is as 
liable to be in China as any other place.” “I will 
get it out of his sister, at any rate.” “What 
good would that do you Leslie, to take revenge 
upon his sister who never harmed you?” “Just 
because the humiliation he caused me at college 
is too much to bear, it calls for satisfaction and 
I will have it or my name is not Leslie Bragge.” 
“How are you to get it from her?” “I am going 
up there and stop at a man’s house by the name 
of Kirby, he lives adjoining farms to this girl, 
I have written to the old fellow stating my health 


15 


Quaker Jim 

\ 

is not good and upon the advice of my physician 
I must go for a while to a cooler climate, and 
upon his advice I am going to Kentucky to regain 
my lost health — but not lost health Bert — -I am 
going to marry Miss Gray and humiliate her in 
every way I can and finally leave her and Mr. 
James to ponder over their enemies deed.” 
“Won’t she know you are her brother’s enemy?” 
“I have planned that long ago.” “How is that 
Leslie?” “I met her and Kirby at the commence- 
ment last spring and was introduced to them by 
the name of Henry Alten, so they don’t know 
my right name or they never will until 1 have 
left them.” “Suppose old man she won’t have 
you?” “Oh! I can mange that all right. You 
see she lives with an Aunt who is about a half 
idiot, a friend from up there told me so. I 
will get on the good side of her and things will 
sail smoothly for Mr. Alten.” “Maybe that 
fellow will tell them who you are?” “No he 
won’t because he left that place and moved to 
New Y r ork.” The two arose to go. Bert 
wished him success at the same time cautioned 
him to be very careful lest he get in trouble 
for he said: “Leslie you never know those 

Kentuckians and if you think you have crazy 
people to deal with you are sadly mistaken.” 

So you Mr. Bragge are going to try to 
wreck the life of Nellie Gray because her 
brother told the truth on you when you tried 
to get the honor of being the captain of the 
football team by crippling a fellow classmate 
because he was your master in the sport. You 
were expelled from college for it and now you 


i6 


Quaker Jim 


seek revenge upon a man’s weak sister whom 
you are afraid to meet face to face. Will you 
carry out your revenge? The pleasant look- 
ing old gentleman seated before you is not so 
deeply interested in the paper he holds before 
him as he appears; on the contrary, he is drink- 
ing bitterly every word you utter and every 
word you say is a pang to his good heart, be- 
cause you are planning evil to his dead and 
only sister’s child, and because you are plan- 
ning to take from that child the happiness and 
good name given her by one of the most noble 
women that ever put foot on Kentucky’s soil. 
Your ship of destruction may not sail so 
smoothly over that sea of revenge for like a 
bolt of lightning from a clear sky your ship 
will be destroyed and your bounty lost, then 
you will remember the gentleman who sat be- 
fore you on that night of your highest ambi- 
tions in the depot at New Oleans. 

After Bragge and his friend had gone from 
the depot James Fox arose and immediately 
went to his hotel. Fie walked hastily to his 
room, threw himself upon a chair, buried his 
face in his hands. There he sat, he knew not 
how long, for there was vision after vision 
arising before him. Fie saw his dear little 
Niece as an infant sitting on a fond mother’s 
knee, he saw her at the death bed of her 
mother make a solemn promise never to do a 
dishonorable act either before God or man. 
He saw her after that mother had passed into 
eternity, night after night, on her knees beg- 
ging a good God not to let her fall into harm 


Quaker Jim 


17 


or disgrace, and now he sees the very man who 
is on the verge of departing to wrest from her 
the honor and good name that is so near and 
dear to every woman in this world. Rising to 
his feet he walked up and down the floor think- 
ing of this loved one far away. “This is too 
much to bear. Forced to leave my home be- 
cause of the unbearable disposition of my 
brother’s wife, forced I say to wander around 
the country from place to place with no where 
I can call home, and now to see my Niece 
whom I think more of than anyone, brought 
into this terrible man’s hands. No, no, I can- 
not bear it longer, I will go back to Kentucky 
and protect her like a man and Leslie Bragge 
or Henry Alten as you see fit to call yourself, 
if you do that poor innocent girl one bit of 
harm I will make you wish you had never seen 
a college or a football game in all your life. 
But I cannot return home. Mandy and I could 
not agree, besides she told me 1 could never 
stay there again for she would have nothing 
more to do with me as long as she lived.” A 
happy thought passed through James’ mind. 
“Couldn’t I return and reconcile her by show- 
ing her what this man is? I can at least try 
and that is what I shall do. Though I can- 
not let them know me for a while, because I 
am satisfied Mandy will take to this fellow 
Bragge at sight and all I could tell her about 
him would amount to naught unless she ac- 
tually saw it or I made him acknowledge his 
purpose before her, that is what I am bound 
to do, and being in the defense of a just cause 


i8 Quaker Jim 

I feel sure Divine Providence will find a way 
for me to show Mandy what Bragge really is 
before he gets revenge upon James Gray’s 
sister. How can I stay there without being 
known?” Accidentally glancing in a mirror, 
his eyes rested upon his silvery locks. “When 
I left home my hair was jet black, not a 
wrinkle was in my face, today my hair is white 
and my face shows what I have gone through 
in ten long and lonesome years. They will 
not recognize me. Not even Possum Boone, 
the Constable, as shrewd a man as he thinks 
himself to be. I must use some other manner 
of speech though. Let me see, I can’t speak 
broken English like a German, neither can I 
use the Irish brogue. Oh, yes, when I was in 
Pennsylvania some years ago I met a crowd of 
Quakers, they talk plainly except they use 
thee, thy and thine, at any rate I will do my 
best and if I don’t use the dialect properly they 
will never know the diffrence. So I shall just 
be Mr. James Pent until such time I may be 
able to let Mandy and Mr. Bragge know who 
I am. They say a Quaker never leaves his 
own settlement but they who know anything 
about them will think I am a stray sheep and 
gotten out of the fold and in case they do 
find me out there is one consideration, I know 
Nellie will take my advice about Bragge and 
she will assist me in trying to reconcile 
Mandy’s disposition and try to bring her back 
like the Mandy she once was.” The next 
morning found James on his way to his old 
home and while he would liked to have re- 


Quaker Jim 


19 


turned and be greeted by his brother, still he 
knew it was best to go as a stranger, and 
this is the Quaker resting in John Fox’s house 
tonight. 

The Fox family was up early the next morn- 
ing, according to custom, but the Quaker slept, 
slept long and peacefully for he had worried 
much the past few days over what may hap- 
pen to Nellie, and now that he was under 
the same roof with her his worry gave way 
to peaceful repose. So long did he sleep that 
Aunt Sarah demanded of Mandy “ef dat funny 
talkin’ man war agoin' to sleep his self to def? 
Misses I think you better go up dar and po’ a 
bucket ob watah on dat man an see ef you 
kin star’ him outen dat bed. I’se got work to 
do. ’Spectable folks is done gone out an done 
a half a day’s work fo’ now. Some ole city 
man er he would’ent be hulked up in de bed 
dis time a day.” “Fll tell John ter call him. 
Sarah, ye git the breakfast on the table an tell 
Nellie ter git ready,” said Mandy going out 
of the room to tell her husband. John went 
up to the Quaker’s room and gave two or 
three hard raps upon the door. This brought 
James out in a hurry and caused John to re- 
mark: “Had a purty good night outen it did 
ve?” “Yes I had a pleasant night’s rest, thank 
thee.” “Wa’al ye had better hurry up break- 
fast is waitin’.” “I shall be ready in a minute 
Mr. Fox.” The Quaker dressed himself and 
was immediately shown into the dining room. 
He had hardly entered when his eyes rested on 
a tall graceful looking young lady with a 


20 


Quaker Jim 


heavy suit of brown hair and a prettier pair of 
blue eyes never shown from a woman's head. 
She had a sad, though sweet smile and her 
manner was so pleasant that James Fox saw 
the very image of his dead sister standing be- 
fore him. Snort being over anxious for break- 
fast did not take time to introduce Nellie to 
the Ouaker but sat down before the rest and 
commenced to devour everything in sight. 
After picking the meat up with his hands he 
would take his fork, reach across the table and 
stick it into a biscuit with the true vengeance 
of a villian, return it, take half of it at one 
bite without ever lifting it from his fork, giv- 
ing his coffee several hard blows to cool it, he 
would turn the saucer, from which he drank, 
up to his mouth never lifting it from the table 
but lowering his head down to it so that his 
prominent nose and the coffee usually came in 
contact with each other. This never deterred 
Snort, however, for he would take the end 
of the table cloth, wipe his nose and start in 
with a renewed energy. Poor Nellie stood 
there and looked like she would die of morti- 
fication for the ill manners of her Uncle. 
Mandy finally did say, after the dog and cat 
got through their customary fight over the 
bones, Snort threw under the table, and the cat 
had gotten seated comfortably in the window: 
“This is my Niece Miss Gray, Mr. Pent.” “De- 
lighted to meet thee, my little girl.” “I am 
glad to know you, Mr. Pent,” answered Nellie. 
Though not customary for strangers, the 
Quaker could not refrain from taking her hand 


21 


Quaker Jim 

and gave it a hearty shake. “Thee was not 
here last evening when I came?” asked the 
Quaker. “No sir, I went over to Mr. Kirby’s 
in the afternoon and they insisted on my 
staying until bed time.” “Ah, perhaps there 
is something interesting there?” said the 
Quaker. Nellie slightly smiled. “No, there is 
no one I am particularly interested in that I 
know of.” “ ’Ceptin’ that sleek lookin’ feller 
frum down South,” managed to blurt out 
Snort, with a mouthful of victuals. “Oh ! thee 
has a gentleman friend from the South,” said 
the Quaker in an interesting tone. “No, he is 
just an acquaintance by the name of Alten I met 
when at school last year; he came up here upon 
the advice of his physician for a few months and 
is stopping with Mr. Kirby, our neighbor,” an- 
swered Nellie. On the advice of “Old Nick” 
thought the Quaker. He said no more to Nellie 
just then, for he had gotten all the information 
he was looking for. Breakfast being over the 
Quaker prepared to leave. Thanking Mandy 
for her trouble on his behalf, he asked Snort 
for his bill. “Wa’al I don’t usually keep any- 
body, but beins’ ye ’sisted ter stay an beins’ 
ye seemed to take a smart uv interest in Nellie, 
my little gal, the bill won’t be nuthin’ this 
time, and ye air welcome ter come back as 
often as ye please,” said Snort. The Quaker 
thanked him very kindly and insisted he should 
have some recompense for his trouble, which 
Snort promptly refused. 

The Quaker not knowing where to go or 
what to do exactly, asked Snort if he knew of a 


22 


Quaker Jim 


place around there for sale. “What ye want, 
a farm or store?” “Oh, I am not particular 
which, so it is in this neighborhood, I have 
come here to live and would like to have a 
small farm or store if thee know of one.” 
“Ole Bill Pearce over here at the village is so 
bad off with rheumatiz an stinginess that he 
can’t tend ter his store no more, an he told me 
yistiddy that he would take twenty-five hun- 
dred dollars an fifty cents fer his place, lock, 
stock an bawrl an give possession in a week 
if he could find a cash buyer.” “Thanks.” 
“He mout knock off the fifty cents if you pin 
him right down ter the pint.” “Any ground 
much to the place?” “Yes, he’s got ’bout six 
acres thar mostly in orchard and a good’ern at 
that.” “Would thee go over there with me to 
look at it.” “Yes, reckon I could, nuthin’ 
round here much ter do terday anyhow, well 
jest go down ter the barn, hitch up ‘Gray Eagle’ 
an tell Bob what ter do ’round here, an then 
we’ll go.” 

They walked down to the barn. John called 
Bob and James saw a fine looking young man 
come out from the buggy shed. He was tall 
and a well built fellow with light hair and 
a face on which the very essence of honor and 
principle were depicted. John told Bob what 
to do in a kind of rough way and he and 
James jumped into the buggy and was off to 
the village, not in a very great hurry for that 
was’ent “Gray Eagle’s” manner of travel, on 
the contrary it seemed that he had plenty 
of time to do everything and the only way 


Quaker Jim 


23 


John ever persuaded him into the notion of 
speed was by the whip encouragement. The 
distance from John’s house to the village was 
about a half mile, though it took “Gray Eagle,” 
it seemed to the Quaker, a good half hour to 
travel it. “I tell ye that’s a fine animal tliar," 
Snort said as they jogged along. “How old is 
he Mr. Fox?” “He’ll be six year ole this fall 
an a gentler nag can’t be found in these parts. 
Why any woman or child kin drive that ar boss 
without a bit uv fear uv his gittin’ sceared or 
runnin' off, and he never shys at anything, jest 
as gentle as a lamb, Sir, jest as gentle as a 
lamb.” James readily agreed with him on the 
gentility of the horse, but he could’ent quite 
agree on the age, for “Gray Eagle” had been a 
horse for some time before he left, so by that 
he took it for granted that John had been trad- 
ing horses while he was gone. “By the way 
does Bob work for thee regularly?” “Oh yes, 
he’s my overseer. I never git out about the 
farm much these days ’ceptin we are right 
busy.” “Is he a good worker?” “He seems to 
be a pleasant willing fellow.” “He does as 
much as the rest uv ’em an ’bout the pleasant 
and willin’ part any uv ’em will be pleasant 
an willin’ enuf fer a dollar so fer as that's con- 
sarned.” “That is what we do this earthly 
work for friend. We must have food to nour- 
ish the body and we must do something to 
obtain that food, if we did’ent I fear our 
stomachs would go hungry often. Moreover, 
work is necessary for the ‘Good Master' says: 
‘Thou shalt earn they bread by the sweat of 


24 


Quaker Jim 


thy brow.’ ” “Wa’all I reckon the Good Lord’s 
right but I done wore all my brow off long ago 
sweatin’ so I don’t sweat no more an hain’t 
agoin’ ter less it be frum a natural heat not 
none uv this artificial heat frum workin’.” “I 
suppose thee hast worked hard in thy younger 
days and hast plenty.” “I never let a dollar 
slip through my fingers yit, fer if ye do some 
other fellow’s ready to pick it up jest soon’s she 
draps an while I hain’t very rich, I reckon I 
could stand a dry spell or two.” 

When John and James drove up in front of 
the store there was a crowd of men gathered 
about in conversation, some talking “crops” 
while others were telling jokes. The chief 
topic, however, seemed to center on the gentle- 
man from the South who was stopping with 
Squire Kirby’s. James and John alighted and 
spoke to the crowd. James made a bow and 
said: “A pleasant greeting to thee gentlemen.” 
One farmer whispered, “A preacher,” another 
said, “A doctor,” and still another “A foreign 
missionary goin' ter hold a meetin’ ter collect 
money for the heathens.” Possum Boone, the 
Constable, who was pretty much always pres- 
ent spoke up. “Boys he hain’t nuther preacher 
or missionary or he woulcl’ent be with Snort 
that’s sartin.” He mout be a doctor, but it 
strikes my mind that lie’s one uv these ’spec- 
tors that looks ’round these places fer Uncle 
Sam an sees thars no crooked work goes on uv 
weighing things an short measures an so forth, 
et cetra. The government did’ent ask us ter 
do that fer we have too much ter do already.” 


25 


Quaker Jim 

This brought a snigger from one of the men 
present, but Possum gave him a look of scorn 
and went on. “Ye see ye fellows don’t know 
much about these kinder people like I do, I 
meet ’em ever day some where, and I’ll bet ye 
lie’s just been pinted out here an got Snort ter 
show him ’round. I make it a study boys be- 
cause my position ’pells me ter, an I kin tell a 
government man er preacher er any other 
kinder man no more than I git my eye squarely 
sot on him. When he comes out an sees my 
badge I’ll bet he s’luts me, fer it’s as natural 
for one officer ter ’slute another as it is fer two 
tom cats ter fight on' meetin’.” 

After Possum had gotten through with this 
he turned to the fellow who had laughed and 
gave him a lecture, saying: “Young man ye 
oughter be ashamed uv yerself fer laughin’ at 
an officer uv the law, moreover, it’s nothin’ ter 
laugh at, for if it was’ent fer us who’d perfect 
yer country, thieves an burglars would pack 
away ever chicken ye got in yer coop, ever ham 
and side uv bacon in yer meat house an ever 
ear uv corn in the crib. It is ter us that’s left 
the dooty ter perfect these things an then ye 
stand here an laugh. It’s better a thousand 
times, yes I say a million times better ter laugh 
right out at meetin’ than ter laugh at the 
’fenders uv yer country. So young man let 
this be a warnin’ ter ye never ter make fun uv 
a officer no more. I never was a man ter give 
way ter my feelin’s. I’m a humble man my- 
self and come frum a humble family an I 
b’live in peace an when somebody hurts yer 


26 


Quaker Jim 


feelin’s not ter say nuthin’ bout it if they don’t, 
but if yer do I’ll tell yer daddy. Now I could 
say a whole lot more ter yer but I’ll keep my 
feelin’s ter myself.” 

It did not take the Ouaker and Bill Pearce 
long to close the deal for in less than a week 
everybody saw the sign in front of the store, 

JAMES PENT 
General Merchandise. 


Quaker Jim 


27 


CHAPTER III. 

By far the best considered farmer in the 
vicinity of the Bearwallow was Bob Tharpe, 
John Fox’s overseer. Being left an orphan at 
the age of fourteen with a sister two years 
younger to support, he knew nothing but hard 
work and so successfullv did he manage things 
that when he was only twenty years old, Snort 
appointed him to the overseersliip of his farm. 
Snort thought a great deal of Bob and left 
every thing about the farm solely to him, 
while on the other hand, Mandy did not take 
a great liking to him, she said, “He war'ent edc- 
cated an had no refinement ’bout him at all.” It 
is true Bob had but very little schooling, but 
at night instead of going out and spending half 
of them in pleasure like other boys, he stayed 
home and gathered all the information out of 
such books that he had, until now he had 
gained a fairly good education. 

When John and James had gone, Bob walked 
down to the well to get a drink. Nellie was 
there getting a bucket of water for her Aunt. 
As she was letting the bucket into the well, 
Bob took hold of the chain. “Pardon me Miss 
Gray, I will draw that for you.” “You arc 
very kind, but Bob don’t call me Miss Gray 
because I have been away three years to school, 


28 


Quaker Jim 


you must call me Nellie.” “You see you have 
become a young lady now, and it would not be 
right for me to call you anything else.” “It is 
just as much right for you as it is for anyone. 
I am going to call you Bob as long I live and 
I want you to call me by the name my mother 
gave me as long as you live.” “All right Nellie, 
but don’t you think Mrs. Fox will raise an ob- 
jection, and don’t you think someone may have 
a right to call you by your first name, while 
I have none.” “Oh Aunt Mandy, she does not 
exactly know everything; and that someone, 
well I haven’t met him yet Bob and if I did 
you could call me Nellie just the same, it 
sounds so cold for you to call me Miss Gray. 
Now you won’t do it again will you?” “No, 
Nellie, not if you don’t want me to.” “I did 
not want you to in the first place.” “I thought 
you had become a lady now and had forgotten 
your childhood days.” Mandy squalled at the 
top of her voice : “You Nellie come on her wuth 
that water I’m chokin’ fer a drink.” “All right 
Auntie, I am coming. Good bye Bob I will 
see you again.” “Good bye Nellie, be a good 
girl.” 

Bob watched her until she had disappeared 
behind some trees that stood between the house 
and the well. “Poor good hearted little Nellie, 
I wonder if she cares any more for me than 
just friendship? She said she did not want me 
to call her Miss Gray, it sounded so cold, but 
then that is her humility; she thinks it sounds 
too proud to call her Miss and that people would 
think she thought herself better than other 


29 


Quaker Jim 

girls of the neighborhood of her age. God bless 
her heart, if I thought she loved me I would 
sacrifice every thing in her behalf. That can 
never be for me though, Mrs. Fox would never 
consent for me to have Nellie because I am 
not wealthy. Oh, well, poor me, luck will come 
my way some day and then things will turn 
out differently, it don’t make it any better to 
be complaining, look to the bright side of 
things, perservere and you can never fail.” 

Bob started on his way out to the field when 
he met Aunt Sarah, who was coming from 
Kirby’s. ‘‘Good mo'rning Sarah.” “High Marse 
Bob.” “Where have you been Sarah?” “Over 
to Kirby’s to take back dat package uv coffee 
Ole Misses borried about a month ago. I gits 
so tared uv dem people borrien frum one an- 
other I don’t know what to do wid mysef.” 
“Are all well at Mr. Kirby’s?” “I reckon dey 
is. I seed Old Squire struttin’ round wid dat 
long tailed coat showin’ dat strange crane neck 
lookin’ feller bout de farm.” “What fellow is 
that?” “Why dat shike poke dat come frum 
down Souf yistiddy, he’s goin’ to stay at de Ole 
Squire’s fo’ a while fo’ his health.” “What’s 
his name?” “All-tin or All-in, sumpin’ lake dat 
dough, he looks lake all brass to me. I tell you 
Marse Bob yo’ ole Aunt Sarah don’t lack de 
looks uv dat man much. He’s got a possum 
look dat what he has.” “Oh ! That must be 
the fellow I heard the Squire speaking of, Al- 
ten in his name Sarah.” “Well I knowed it 
wus all sumpin.” “You say he is there now?” 
“Yes an dey sends for Miss Nellie yistiddy bout 


30 


Quaker Jim 


two clock, she went ober dar an he fetched her 
home las’ night.” “He did?” “Yes an Kirby’s 
Liza tole me he wus dead stuck on her. I 
never got to talk to her yit, but soons I gits de 
chance I’se goin’ to find out whether she lacks 
him better dan you, Marse Bob.” “Nellie 
cares for me only as a friend Sarah.” “Yes she 
do cause I knows. She tells me ebery thing, 
an I know dat chile lacks you bettern anybody, 
ceptin’ Marse Jim. Sides I hearn her an Ole 
Misses fussin’ bout you las’ week an dat chile 
jest ups an tells her dat dar always would be 
a warm spot in her heart fo’ you.” “And what 
did Mrs. Fox say?” “She said she always did 
try to be a Christian lady an make sumpin’ 
outen Nellie an not let her marry a good fo’ 
nuthin’ man, den Miss Nellie ups an tells her 
again dat it war’ent every thing wid white 
hands an collars an cuffs an biled shirts dat car- 
ried behind it an honest spirit.” “What did 
she say to that?” “She ups an slaps de poor 
chile’s jaws an den the poor little chile went 
up stars an cried all de evenin’, yo’ ole Aunt 
Sarah sneeks up Avid a piece uv cake she baked 
hersef an gives it to dat poor little thing, den 
she quit cryin’ an eat dat cake an said me an 
you war de only friends she had in dis wide, 
wide worle ; den she lay her head down on my 
lap an dar war great big tears on her purty 
cheeks. I thought my ole black heart would 
split wide open. I took my cotton handkercher 
outen my pocket an wiped dem tears away, den 
she went to sleep, an when she waked up she 
had a splitten headache an did’ent come down 


Quaker Jim 


3i 


to supper. So ole Marse John axes what’s de 
matter wid dat chile, Ole Misses says she wuz 
impedent to her an she slaps her jaws an she 
was up stars poutin’ it out ; Marse John gits 
mad an says somebody else be poutin’ round 
here next thing you know an he goes up an 
pets de little thing an gits her to come down 
to supper, an Ole Misses been mad as a settin’ 
hen all de week.’’ Well I have to be going 
now Sarah. You keep your ears open and find 
out how I stand with Nellie, but don’t tell 
her that I told you to.” “All right Marse Bob 
I’ll do the best I kin an ever good word I kin 
squeeze in fer you I’ll do it. Good bye Marse 
Bob.” “Good bye Sarah.” 

When Nellie returned with the water Mandy 
was in a fidget. “What on earth has been 
keepin’ ye all this time? I coulder packed the 
whole well up sence you’ve been gone.” “I 
met Bob at the well, Aunt Mandy, he drew the 
water for me and I gave him a drink. We 
were talking when you called me.” “Yes ye 
wus stan din’ thar gossepin’ wuth that good fer 
nuthin’ feller an now the water is so warm I 
can’t drink it.” “No Auntie when you called 
Bob drew me a fresh bucket and I came right 
away.” “Well it looks lack it wus warm any- 
how. Nellie I would’ent waste my time talkin’ 
ter Bob Tharpe, he hain’t in yer standin’, an 
I don’t want ye ter be courtin’ a man that 
hain’t got nuthin’, not even as much as a edeca- 
tion.” “Did you have anything when Uncle 
John married you?” “Yes Missie I did. My 
dady give me as finer cow an calf as ever wuz, 


32 


Quaker Jim 


sides three sheep, an my mammy give me two 
quilts sides a feather tick stuffed wuth goose 
feathers, none uv yer shavins in it I kin tell 
ye, an its right on my bed now, I spects ter die 
on that tick an no whars else.” “That is 
very nice to have some one to give you some- 
thing, Bob has no one to help him what little 
he has he made himself, and I think that shows 
a good will, you know Aunt Mandy, Uncle 
John does’ent pay him very much of a salary; 
out of that he keeps Bertha and himself, besides 
giving her a good education.” “He hain’t doin’ 
no more than his dooty, ter put her ter school 
whar she will learn some manners if nuthin’ 
else.” “Just suppose Bob and I were to marry, 
don’t you think that as careful as he is with 
the management of Uncle John’s farm he would 
also be with my money?” “Well jest ’spose 
nuthin’, ye air not agoin’ ter marry him an that 
settles it right now.” “Aunt Mandy I am a 
woman now and if I loved Bob Tharpe, you 
or no one else would ever keep me from 
marrying him.” “Yer jest try it young lady 
an I’ll show yer what I kin do; sides Kirby’s 
sent word they wuz cornin’ over here ternight 
an bring that Mr. Alten wuth ’em an I meas 
ter dress up an go in the parlor ter see what 
he be.” “Very well you may come in and do 
the talking too ; so far as I am concerned, he 
is nothing to me.” “No, that’s the way wuth 
ye, yer druther talk ter a pauper than a prince 
jest lack yer mammy wuz.” “I never look at 
the wealth of a man or his clothes, its his char- 
acter.” “Then yer mean ter say that this 


Quaker Jim 


33 


young man has no kerecter, I reckon nobody 
hain’t got none but Bob Tharpe?” “I did’ent 
say Mr. Alten had no character, so far as I 
know he is a gentleman and so is Bob.” “An 
so is Bob, yer make me sick wuth Bob, an 
John’s as bigger fool bout him as ye air, now 
ye go upstairs an git ready I want ye ter go 
ter the store fer me after dinner, Sarah’s got ter 
help me an John is gone an goodness knows 
when he will be back ; I would 'ent ask that Bob 
ter do nuthin’ fer me, he thinks he’s too im- 
portant here lately.” “I don’t know what 
makes you have such a dislike for Bob, he 
never did a thing to you in his life, yet you 
are continually sluring and talking about him ; 
even tried to get Uncle John to discharge him 
and now you say I have got to quit having 
anything to do with him, that he is not my 
equal, yes he is Mandy Fox, he is your equal 
and he is my equal, dispute it if you dare. To 
think we played together when we were chil- 
dren and think how he would divide the last 
piece of bread he had with me, and now he is 
such a noble self made man, and so good and 
honest hearted ; then for me to quit speaking 
to him, never as long as my life lasts, will I 
think myself above him ; and never as long as 
he conducts himself as he does now will I 
be ashamed of him before anybody, on the 
contrary, I will be proud to be called his 
friend.” “Phew! reckon ye air in love wuth 
him.” “Yes I love him, and it grieves me to 
hear him being spoken of in this manner. Oh, 
I wish Uncle Jim was here, he would not per- 


34 Quaker Jim 

mit you to talk this way, he would remind you 
of your poor days when you had to go out 
on the farm and work like a man, he would 
tell you of the unchristianly spirit of wrong- 
ing an innocent man; Uncle John could do it 
but it sounds funny to him to hear you talk 
this way; you know he tells you often that 
you will talk your tongue off some day.” 
Nellie’s cheeks were flushed with anger as she 
told Mandy this. She looked as if she would 
defy Mandy to say another word about Bob. 
It was the first time Mandy ever saw her 
stirred up, so she commenced to think herself 
on dangerous ground. Suddenly Nellie be- 
came calm and that spirited anger died away 
and she regained that smile tha.t plays on her 
face, “I must not think hard of you Aunt 
Mandy, poor thing you don’t know what }^ou 
are doing. God will forgive you and I know 
everything will turn out well in the end, so I 
will trust in the Divine Maker that He may 
change your bitter feelings for Bob into fath- 
oms of love and that you will be sorry for all 
the evil you have contrived against him who 
would willingly sacrifice every earthly thing 
for your friendship.” 

Nellie did not wait to hear what Mandy had 
to say, but immediately went out of the room. 
When she had gone the blood in Mandy’s 
veins commenced to warm up a little. “Well 
I reckon she’s satisfied now she’s been plan- 
nin’ this fer three weeks or more, an its come 
at last. That’s the gratitude uv a gal ye raise, 
stand up an sass ye till she’s black in the 


Quaker Jim 


35 


face, then call on the Lord ter forgive ye, if I 
done anything ter be forgive I kin ask it my- 
self, an stands right up here an tells me she 
loves that good fer nuthin’ thing. Well I’ve 
raised her so fer an I’ll finish the whole thing 
out till she’s married, but she will die a ole 
maid afore that Bob Tharpe will ever git her 
an that’s as shore as my name’s Mandy Fox, 
an, moreover, I meas ter tell John an have this 
thing stopped at onct.” 

Nellie came into her Aunt’s room imme- 
diately after dinner to inquire of what she 
wanted at the store. Mandy told her and in- 
sisted that she return as soon as possible. 
Not a word was said of what had taken place 
in the morning. Mandy talked to her more 
kindly than she had ever done before, some- 
thing Nellie could not quite understand. On 
her way she was thinking over the sudden 
change of her Aunt’s attitude towards her 
when she noticed “Uncle Snort” and “Gray 
Eagle” coming down the road. “Hello, little 
gal, whar ye goin?” “I am going to the store 
for Auntie, Uncle John.” “Whares Sarah, 
can’t she go?” “No, Kirby’s are coming over 
this evening and she has to help Aunt 
Mandy.” Humph ! Ole Squire’s folks are 
gittin’ clever sence he’s runnin’ fer office again 
hain’t they?” And Uncle Snort chuckled to 
himself. “Yes Uncle John they gave us all an 
invitation to come over and spend an evening 
some time. I forgot to tell you.” “Wa’al 
they don’t haf ter invite ‘Yer Uncle Snort’ 
over kase when that note comes due I’ll jest 


/ 


36 Quaker Jim 

pay ’em a call anyhow whether its social er 
not, an I don’t know but that if he’s beat 
this time that I mout haf ter invite Possum 
along on some uv these calls.” “O ! Uncle 
John you would’ent be that mean would you? 
Kirby’s are nice people. They cannot get 
money every time they want it like you.” 
‘‘No Nellie I would’ent bother the Ole Scpiire 
if he never payed a cent on it, I’m jest foolin’. 
Say whose that boarder that fetched ye home 
last night, what’s his name?” “Henry Alten 
I believe.” “You believe? Wa’al I b'live 
Henry lacked ter had no breeches ter go home 
in. I think ole Shep must a chawed ’em purty 
nigh off did’ent he? He, He.” “Why no 
Shep did’ent bite him.” “He mout as wells 
ter, kase I know he wuz scared ter death fer 
after ye come in I hearn him jest a hoofin’ it 
down the pike.” “Uncle John you made that 
up.” “No, pawn my honor, if he did’ent go 
down that road as fast as Possum did the 
night he thought the ghost wuz after him. 
He! He!” Nellie was really amused, though 
she appeared very serious. “You are always 
making fun of some one, some day you will 
get it yourself.” “Wa’al it won’t be the first 
time nor I reckon the last nuther. It seems 
ter me if I was courtin’ a gal I would’ent let a 
little thing lack a dog scare me, specially one 
with not a tooth lack Shep.” “Maybe he 
was’ent afraid of the dog, perhaps he thought 
you were coming out after him.” “Laws-a- 
mercy child me an Gray Eagle both put to- 
gether could’n’ter ketched him. Is he cornin' 


Quaker Jim 


37 


over with ’em ternight?” “I think he is.” 
“Whose he coming’ ter see, me er ye?” Uncle 
Snort liked to tease Nelly and always took ad- 
vantage of every chance. “Why you of 
course.” “Wa’al I reckon I must put on my 
clean cottonadoes an come in, he is a kinder 
dudish feller hain’t he?” “He dresses real 
nicely.” “I’ll bet he hain’t one, two, two an 
a half with the Squire, when he gits on his 
biled shirt an split tail coat with ’em big 
loose breeches an gits ter bowin’ an scrapin’ 
round lack a ole turkey gobbler.” “Now there 
you go again making sport of the Squire.” “I 
hain’t makin’ a sporHouter him, ner I better 
not try it er he’d have me up afore the grand 
jury afore I could say scat.” “When I come back 
from the store I’ll fix you a nice necktie and 
blacken your boots, Uncle John, if you will 
come in and talk to this fellow, and I will bet 
you that the Squire won't be in it.” “All 
right Nellie, I’ll try him one time but if he 
don’t know nuthin’ bout injuns an wild cats, 
I don’t want nuthin’ ter do with him.” “What 
did you do with the kind old gentleman this 
morning?” “That funny talkin’ feller? Why 
he bought Bill Pearce out smack smooth afore 
Bill had time ter raise his price a cent. The 
quickest trade I ever saw. Bill tole me on the 
quiet that he thinks he wuz mesmerized for he 
never wuz snapped up that a way on a trade 
in his life.” “I am glad he has it, he seems 
to be such a nice old gentleman.” “Yes an I 
reckon thar will be nice prices too, though he 
can’t be no worser than Bill.” “He will be all 


38 Quaker Jim 

right, how came him to buy it?” He said he 
had no home er kinsfolks, an he lacks the place 
an wanted a business, so Bill tole me if I sold 
it I got fifty, this feller come along an I takes 
him over. Bill says I oughten ter charge him 
nuthin’, he's loosen money now, but he kin lie 
jest as slick as a ribbon when it comes down ter 
a dollar.” “When is he going to take it?” 
“Next week I b’live an he’s goin’ ter stay at 
our house till then an if yer treat him purty 
nice he mout set ter yer, it’ll be ’bout the only 
chance ye will get anyhow.” “That will beat 
none. I must be going, Aunt Mandy told me 
to hurry back.” “I’ll go fer yer Nellie.” “No, 
I can go, you go home and rest up for to- 
night.” “Don’t fergit ter make that necktie 
an bresh my clothes up a bit I’ll make the 
Squire’s split tail stick square out afore the 
night is over.” 

“Just the very place I want,” thought 
James. “All the news comes right here first. 
I can hear everything that goes on between 
Nellie and Henry Alten, besides doing a nice 
little business to keep one from rusting. They 
don’t seem to have the least suspicion of who 
I am. Old Shep recognized me and that was 
all. John seems to be the same old Snort, 
while Mandy is just as bad as ever if not 
a little worse in trying to put on a great style. 
I believe she tries to look younger now than 
she did ten years ago, and it would’ent sur- 
prise me if Nellie don’t have a pretty hard 
time under the old lady. This fellow Alten 
is going to have an easy thing of it in winning 


Quaker Jim 


39 


Mandy over to his side for he has about 
enough deceit in him to make her think he is 
a gentleman among gentlemen. If I don’t 
take some of it out of both of you before I 
have finished, my name is not Jim Fox.” Thus 
James was musing to himself when Nellie 
walked in. “Ah, little girl, what brought thee 
over this afternoon?” “Aunt Mandy sent me 
after some things.” “Thee shalt have them 
without any trouble. Take a seat and rest 
thy self.” While Bill Pearce was filling the 
order, James commenced his task of winning 
the confidence of his Niece. “Did thee meet 
thine Uncle on the way?” “Yes, Sir, I met 
Uncle John and he told me you had purchased 
Mr. Pearce’s place here.” “I have indeed, 
little girl.” “You intend to settle here then?” 
“Yes I like your people and like the country, 
it seems so pleasant and nice. What did thy 
Aunt say thy first name was?” “Nellie.” 
A beautiful name. Have thee any brothers or 
sisters Nellie?” “I had a brother but he died 
two years ago while enlisted in the navy.” 
“Thy brother dead?” “Yes Sir.” “Poor 
little girl no father, no mother and no 
sisters or brothers, how sad it is to be with- 
out them.” James had not heard of his 
Nephew’s death. He gave a long deep sigh. 
If Nellie Gray had known what a pain shot 
through the old man’s heart when she told him 
this she never would have said a word. “So 
thee are left alone. But thy Uncle and Aunt 
are as kind as a father and mother toward 
thee?” “Unde John is as kind to me as can 


40 


Quaker Jim 


be.” James noticed that she said nothing 
about her Aunt, so he thought that he would 
push the question a little more. “And thy 
Aunt is good and kind to thee?” Here is where 
he saw his sister plainly in Nellie, like her 
she never flattered any one. “Sometimes Aunt 
Mandy is good.” He was now convinced of 
Mandy’s treatment towards Nellie. 

Bill Pearce gaA^e Nellie her things, she 
started to go. “Don't be in a hurry little 
girl, stay and rest thy self a while longer.” 
“No, I thank you Mr. Pent, Aunt Mandy told 
me to hurry home and I have been gone al- 
most two hours.” “Well Nellie, my little girl, 
after next week I will be here pretty much 
all the time, and I want thee to come often 
to see me and talk with me. I will be thy 
friend and I want thee to be mine. This may 
sound strange to thee as I only met thee yes- 
terday, but some day thee may see that I am 
a friend to thee (with a strong emphasis on 
thee), indeed.” “I thank you ever so much 
and I will try to be a friend to you, Mr. 
Pent.” 

“Wo! Wo! Gray Eagle yer crooked tail, 
corn fed critter, Wo! Come on Bob unhitch 
him. Give him plenty uv water an feed now, 
he hain’t had a mouthful sence this mornin’.” 
“All right Mr. Fox.” “Say Bob there’s goin’ 
ter be some folks here ternight, the Kirby’s an 
that feller frum the South is cornin’ with ’em. 
In fact thars goin’ ter be several more sides 
’em. Nellie’s promised ter dress me up so I 
want ye ter come too, I want ye ter dress up 


Quaker Jim 


41 


an show that chap we have as good lookin’ 
folks in Kentuck as they have, will yer?” You 
are making fun of me again, ar’ent you?” “No 
pawn my honor if I wuz a young gal an lookin’ 
fer a purty feller I’d set ter ye.” “When you 
get tired let me know Mr. Fox.” “Wa’al I 
ain’t tryin’ ter fool yer this time, that’s sartin 
an shore.” “I will try to come.” “What’s 
goin’ ter hender yer?” “I have a lot of work 
yet, it may be too late when I am through.” 
“\e air through right now ’ceptin’ I want yer 
ter go up the road an meet Nellie. Mandy 
sent her ter the store and she may have sich 
a load she can’t'pack it. I w r anted ter go fer 
her but she would’ent let me. If ye’ll walk up 
that way I’ll be bleeged ter yer.” “It will be 
a pleasure for me I will assure you.” “What 
the load er Nellie?” “Why to accommodate 
you.” “Yum, yum, now Bob yer know it 
hain’t me yer want ter favor, I think thars 
sumpin’ in the wind twixt ye an the gal. 
She’s been talkin’ too nice about yer lately.” 
“I don’t understand you Mr. Fox.” “Bob a 
sheep killin’ dog always trys ter hide it. Ye 
an her understand all right I jest wanted ter 
tell yer ye better watch yer corners or the 
chap frum ‘Dixie’ will have the bird caged 
an gone ’fore ye know it.” “The only thing 
I know is we have always been the best of 
friends.” “Go on Bob ye know that I know 
a plegged sight better than that.” “If you 
do you know more than I.” “They all try ter 
hand ye that taffy. Look at the Ole Widder 
Simpkins, when her an Si Beame wuz ’bout ter 


42 


Quaker Jim 

hitch up, why she wuz as shy as a settin’ 
turkey hen.” “I think you are mistaken about 
Nellie and I though.” “Never missed a guess 
on a egg a hatchin’ in my life an yer kin al- 
ways tell when they are spiled. Here comes 
Possum Boone so ye’d better go ahead now, 
she’ll be along purty soon. Don't ye buss 
her though yer rascal er Mandy mout find it 
out, then she’d trim yer collar fer ye.” “No 
danger of anything like that Mr. Fox.” “Open 
the gate for his Possumship as yer go out, he 
don’t know how. He’ll have it torn down 
tereckly.” 

“Good evenin’ Snort.” “Good evenin’ Pos- 
sum.” “Fine evenin’ this afternoon hain’t it?” 
“Yes it be. Any news Possum?” “No, none 
that I knows on. I did heer thar wuz ter be 
a social in the neighborhood ternight.” Pos- 
sum had heard of the gathering at Uncle 
Snort’s for that night, knowing that it al- 
ways meant a good luncheon and a well filled 
bottle, he made it his business to stop by for 
an invitation. Possum was a great lover of 
“Old Bourbon,” especially when it came free. 
“Thars goin’ ter be a crowd here ternight if 
that’s what yer mean, come over Possum.” 
“Did’ent ’xactly know where it was ter be here 
or not. I’m bleeged ter yer Snort, if I hain’t 
called out twixt now an then I’ll be on hand, 
both as a visitor an a officer too, yer see some 
uv of them fellers mout git ter drinkin’ too 
much then I kin use my authority ter stop 
it.” “I don’t think thar’l] be much drinkin’, 
kase all the folks cornin’ ternight will be purty 


Quaker Jim 


43 


much temperance so I won’t have any.” Pos- 
sum squirmed and twisted around two or 
three times and squinted his little black eyes 
as if it did’ent quite suit him. “Thar’s no tell- 
in’ who mout fetch a bottle with ’em, I’ll be on 
the look out, if I ketch ’em Snort I’ll make ’em 
whack up with us, won’t that be all right?” 
“Sartinly if ye let me drink fust, I would’ent 
trust ye Possum very fer, if I don’t git fsut I 
mout not git any. Suppose ye go ter the Berg 
an git one, then we know we won't git left.” 
“Ding-be-dinged, if I did’ent come off frum 
home without a cent, if yer’ve got the money 
I’ll go right off.” “Never mind Possum, I 
b’live we’ll do very well without it, we’re liable 
ter git full an scandalize the whole shootin’ 
match.” “It will be mouty dry settin’ three 
hours without a sup er two ter change the 
monstrocity.” “Wa’al I’ll see what kin be 
done twixt now and then, though ye kin talk 
ter the ladies Possum an forgit all about the 
dram.” “I don’t yearn much fer ladies com- 
pany, less I got a snort er two, ter liven up my 
spirits a bit, sides thars that new feller mout 
want ter ask some pint uv law, I could tell 
him much better if I had suinpin’ in me ter 
heat my blood an make my brain work better.” 
“I reckon thar’ll be sumpin’ here.” “It’ll be 
a great relief fer me an ye Snort, we won’t be 
so narvous when all these fine folks gits ter 
askin’ questions. Wa’al I must be on my way 
Snort, if ever thing is all right, I’ll be here.” 
“All right Possum.” “Good evenin’ ter yer.” 
“Good bye Possum.” 


44 


Quaker Jim 


Possum rode off with the air of a duke, reared 
back in his saddle on his sway backed mule, 
that would put ‘'Maud” to shame, both at bit- 
ing and kicking. Possum never had a fear of 
any one taking “Shoo-Fly” as he called her for 
no one could get in twenty feet of her but 
himself, and he could’ent except he aproached 
from the left side. She was blind in that eye, 
and it was very amusing to see Possum com- 
ing along on “Shoo-Fly” with his little black 
squint eyes, goatee beard and crooked nose 
that almost went over the goatee and tooth- 
less chin below. Possum did’ent weigh over a 
hundred and fifteen pounds, but according to 
his imagination Uncle Snort was a small man 
beside him. Possum wore trousers much too 
large for him and his old gray coat hung rather 
loosely on which was always displayed the 
ever famous badge showing him an officer of 
the law. 

There are many times we say things in jest 
that cause sad and bitter thoughts to throb 
within one's breast. Such was the case when 
Uncle Snort remarked to Bob about Henry 
Alten getting Nellie. Bob walked up the road 
thinking over what had been said, the more 
he thought the more he could see Nellie away 
off in some Southern home, the wife of this 
man; perhaps in poverty and misery, or if he 
be wealthy perhaps a slave of his gold. “It 
is a sad thing indeed to have some one stand 
between you and the one you love, such is my 
case, from w r hat Aunt Sarah told me and the 
way Uncle Snort speaks, Nellie thinks more of 


45 


Quaker Jim 

me than I imagine. I love her much, I am 
tired of living in suspense this way, I am go- 
ing to take courage and ask her if she really 
loves me, if she does our marriage is assured. ” 
Bob was resolving all of these things in his 
mind when he walked right into Nellie. 
“Hello Bob.” “Why hello Nellie, I did’ent see 
you coming.” “What are you doing up here?” 
“Mr. Fox told me to meet you and carry your 
parcels home.” “Well I am glad he did, I 
will have company.” “You give me the 
bundles Nellie.” “No, I can carry them they 
are not heavy, you walk along and talk to me.” 
“I won’t go unless you let me carry them for 
you.” “All right, old contrary, take them.” 
“Uncle Snort told me to help you, what would 
they thing to see me walking along beside you, 
with you carrying the parcels.” “You must 
not mind them, do as I tell you and don’t be 
so afraid.” “I am not afraid Nellie, Mr. Fox 
is my superior and I must be obedient.” Nel- 
lie looked at him with a smile. “What a 
good little boy, for that I am going to ask 
you over tonight to the social, will you come?” 
“Mr. Fox asked me a while ago.” “He did?” 
“Yes, and he told me when I brought your 
things home I was done for today.” “Good 
for Uncle John, I always knew he liked you 
Bob.” Here was Bob’s chance to ask her if 
she loved him. His throat seemed to swell, his 
heart was in his mouth, it seemed to him he 
could’ent utter a word, as he said afterwards, 
his tongue got hung down in his throat and 
would’ent move an inch. Nellie noticed him 


46 


Quaker Jim 


blushing and trembling. “What is the matter 
Bob?” Bob managed to half way say, “I know 
Uncle Snort likes me Nellie, but, — Here he 
stopped. Nellie blushed as badly as Bob, she 
knew what he wanted to say but she had one 
advantage over him she could talk. “But what 
Bob,” she looked at him in such a pleading 
way, right there Bob’s heart went back to its 
place, the swelling in his throat went down 
and his tongue became loosened. Never be- 
fore had he seen her so beautiful. The thought 
came to him it’s now or never. He straight- 
ened himself up and looked her squarely in 
the face. “Nellie I have known you all of 
my life. You have been the best friend I ever 
had, there is a great deal of talk around Uncle 
Snort’s about you and me. Uncle Snort ac- 
cused me of it a few moments ago. Aunt 
Sarah told me something this morning that 
made me feel happier than I ever was before, 
I have decided to take courage and ask, though 
a moment ago I could hardly speak, till you 
looked at me with that sweet and gentle smile 
that has made me love you so much. I now 
stand before you, one of the most humble men 
in this vicinity, you know I have worked hard 
and long to maintain Sister and I, I realize 
your standing in society, your wealth and your 
Christian charity, I have nothing to offer but 
my good name and a great love which I bear 
for you in return for so much, whether you 
refuse or give I never will cease to be thank- 
ful for the kindness you have extended to me ; 


Quaker Jim 


47 


as we stand here Nellie with no one looking 
but our Good and Kind Father above I ask 
you, do you love me.” The tide had changed. 
Nellie who had the courage before, began to 
tremble now, her face was flushed and as she 
looked into the countenance of the man who 
had just confessed his love for her, never had 
she seen him look so noble and good before 
and with a half whispered, “Yes,” she was 
clasped to the heart of the man she loved. 

The victory was won. Bob knew he had 
done his work well. He gently raised her head 
and gave her a kiss. Nellie told him not to 
mention a word about it for the present. “No 
Nellie I know your Aunt is embittered against 
me, it would not do to say a thing.” “We will 
be patient Bob and wait, some day this prej- 
udice of Aunt Mandy’s may turn into kindness 
for you. In the meantime we will act just as 
we did before, but remember, Bob, what ever 
happens, I love you and no one else.” 

What more did he want? Nellie Gray the 
highest standing young lady of the commun- 
ity had given herself to Bob Tharpe, the lowly 
overseer of John Fox’s farm. A man who 
never had been to college, a man who had 
never seen a city. “The power of no man can 
separate us now, she is mine, and though we 
do have to wait every thing will be well in 
the end.” These thoughts coursed through 
Bob’s mind as they walked along. A more 
happy couple never entered John Fox’s place 
than Nellie and Bob on that beautiful after- 


48 


Quaker Jim 


noon. The very trees seemed to smile on 
them as they approached the yard and old 
Shep came down the walk gently wagging* his 
tail to bid them welcome, as if he knew what 
had occurred. 


Quaker Jim 


49 


CHAPTER IV. 

Night came on, the moon rose in its silvery 
splendor to give light to the pedestrian who 
perchanced to be on his way. The Fox home- 
stead was brilliantly lighted, something that 
did’ent occur often. Aunt Sarah rushed from 
room to room as if preparing to receive the 
president. “I declar befo’ goodness ole Misses 
sholy is loosin’ her mind. Got me dustin’ an 
cleanin’ roun’ hyar lack I had six hands. I 
wusht Nellie an Marse Bob would git married, 
I'd lib wid deni dat’s what I would. I knows 
she would’ent wurk me to def. I’se been goin’ 
sence ten o’clock dis mornin’ an ain’t done y it. 
I wusht dat ole Southern man woulder stayed 
home, an quit bother’n ’spectable folks. 
Reckon dis house is clean as his’en widout all 
uv dis extra polishin’. Teebe take yo’ black 
dirty hands outen dat powder box, ole Misses 
be up hyar terectly an swar I done it, dat’s fer 
women, dat ain’t fo’ cranky ole pests lack 
you.” “I thought it was quinine in thar. He! 
Ya! He! Ya!” “Quinine? Fo’ de laws sakes 
if ole Misses ketches you, you'll think its red 
peppa He! He!” “I don’t see nutin’ ter laugh 
at nigger.” “Nigger? I druther be a nigger 
than a silly ole critter, lack you. You ain’t 
got sense enuf to bridle a hoss, let alone to 


50 Quaker Jim 

come up hyar an put dat powder on yo’ face. 
You ain’t no gal.” “Mandy told me I mus’ent 
come in the front room ternight but I’m goin’ 
ter put this on an come in anyhow, they won t 
know me then.” “Dey won’t, umph!” ‘‘He! 
Ya! He! Ya!” “Go on down stars an wash 
yo’ black dirty face an let dat powder alone.” 
Teebe took good care to get close to the door. 
“My face is not haf as black as yourn nigger.” 
Sarah picked up a chair and started after him. 
He had gotten out before she could get to him. 
It came near being a serious accident, how- 
ever, for just as Sarah was raising the chair 
to throw at Teebe she ran into Mandy, she and 
Mandy both hit the floor together. Luckily it 
happened that neither was hurt, it had a ten- 
dency to cool Sarah off, when she saw what 
she had done, whereas Mandy who had been all 
smiles became rather saucy for a few mo- 
ments. Very slowly Sarah raised herself, 
walked back in the room, all the time looking 
Mandy in the face, while Mandy sat there and 
stared at Sarah. “Look a here Sarah what do 
yer mean by this?” “I begs all de pawdons 
date ever wuz in de worle Misses, hat ole 
Teebe comes up yar an wuz smearin’ his face 
wif yo’ powdah, I takes up dis chair to make 
him quit, when he tole me I wuz a black face 
nigger an run out an me ater him.” What 
Mandy had in store for Sarah if she had’ent 
told of the powder box was awful. Just as 
soon as it was mentioned Mandy was up in a 
flash. “He was in my powder box?” “Yes- 
sum Misses.” “Why did’ent you hold him till 


Quaker Jim 


5i 


I got here?” “I could’ent ketch him Misses.” 
”He hain't got no respect fer me ner nobody 
else, always got his meddlin' fingers inter 
sumpin. Thar air more fool men in this worle 
than any worle I knows on, he better keep his 
hands offen my things if he knows what’s good 
for him.” “He calls me a nigger too Misses.” 
“I don’t ker ’bout that, it’s my powder box 
what bothers me. Look a here, here’s his 
dirty finger prints all in it an ter think I 
haf ter put that powder on my face. I reckon 
I’m the most mistreated woman that ever wuz. 
Sarah I’ll fergive ver fer knockin’ me down 
bein’s it did’ent hurt an yer wuz tryin’ ter 
pertect my things.” Thank you Misses.” 
“Yer air welcome, now come here an 
straighten my dress out an bresh it an fix my 
hair so the bald part don't shine.” .Sarah was 
well pleased to be let off so lightly, she did 
her work with a real good will. 

It was not the custom for the visitor to 
knock at the door, but stayed outside in the 
yard and hollowed Hello ! Mandy heard this 
familiar sound as Sarah was brushing her 
dress. “Hurry .Sarah they air thar now, I 
must go inter the parlor and receive ’em as 
mistress uv the house. Mandy rushed down 
stairs taking tw r o steps at a time in order to 
get to the door to receive Mrs. Kirby and the 
refined gentleman from the South. She had 
Sarah to stand at the exit of the parlor to take 
the hats and shawls, while Snort was sent to 
the porch to welcome tfwrn as far as the door, 
then she was to receive them into the parlor. 


52 


Quaker Jim 


The polite manner in which Snort invited the 
guests in and the way he inquired of their 
health made Mandy feel proud of her husband. 
“Shorely John’s larnt some manners at last, 
least I been teachin’ ’em ter him long enuf,” 
Mandy remarked to herself, as she pulled a 
bunch of hair over a bald spot Sarah had left, 
peeped in the mirror once more to see if the 
paint had properly kept its place on her face. 
Everything being in first class shape, Mandy 
opened the door to bid welcome to her guests ; 
but alas, for poor Mandy, she was doomed to 
bitter disappointment, instead of the ones she 
expected, it was none other than Possum Boone 
and his lady, Piegon-Toed-Liz, as she was 
commonly called by her neighbors. If Mandy 
had fallen from the house top, she would not 
have felt any worse. Sarah’s eyes doubled in 
size, all she could do was to keep from burst- 
ing forth in one of her fits of laughter, remem- 
bering her incident upstairs, however, she 
managed to restrain from any outward sign of 
mirth with the exception of a few quivers of 
the shoulders and a vein or two becoming - en- 
larged in her neck. “How do yer do Cousin 
Mandy I’m as glad ter see yer as a weanin’ calf 
is ter see its mammy. That was more than 
Mandy could say for Possum, though being a 
cousin to him, she could not give vent to her 
feelings as she would like. “Why I did’ent 
know yer all wuz cornin’ over here ternight, 
what brung year?” “Shoe-Fly” brung me an 
the Sorrel Mar brung Miss Liza, if yer want 
ter know the rest, John said thar’s goin’ ter 


53 


Quaker Jim 

be a social, he axed me an Liza over this even- 
in’, so here we be.” Mandy had seemingly 
paid no attention to Pigeon-Toed-Liz. Think- 
ing it about her time to speak Liz walked up, 
gathered Mandy around the neck and gave her 
a kiss with very little ceremony and said : 
“Howdy.” She then went over to Sarah and 
handed her hat and shawl to be put away. 
“Take good ker of them things Sarah, and 
don’t let nobody’s git mixed with ’em kase I 
paid two dozent eggs an a pole cat’s hide fer 
that hat jest last fall an I can’t afford ter buy 
.expensive things ever day.” Possum said he 
believed he would go out and talk to John till 
the company came, so that left Mandy and Liz 
to talk at their leisure. Liz Jeans was a girl 
that never had the opportunity of an education 
nor did she want it, she could hitch a horse, 
drive a wagon or do a day’s work out in the 
field equal to any man. Liz thought no more 
of jumping upon a horse, without a saddle and 
riding ten miles to a dance than Sarah did 
of smoking her pipe. A pink calico dress 
above her shoe tops and a badly soiled straw 
hat with a yellow ribbon tied around that 
almost dragged the floor, was usually her cos- 
tume. Her house manners were rather limited 

and she had as soon say, I’ll be as to say 

her prayers. Liz cared little for anybody or 
their feelings they all looked on an equality 
with her, therefore, Mandy was afraid to say 
anything out of the way lest she would get 
her fortune told oi tne past, present and future. 

Seeing that Sarah put her things away 


54 


Quaker Jim 

nicely, she flung herself into the cushion rocker 
that had been placed purposely for Mr. Alten, 
crossed her legs and commenced: “Mandy this 
is a fine cheer, I think I’ll set in it all the 
time uv the social.” “Do as yer lack ’bout it.” 
“I always do that at home or abroad. Possum 
told me yer wuz lookin’ fer big folks ternight.” 
“Yes thars a very fine man wuth ’em. I want 
yer ter use all uv the manners yer kin possibly 
rake an scrape Lizzie, in case yer don’t ker 
ter be whar he be, yer kin go in my room an 
yer won't be bothered a tall ’bout him.” 
“Manners? I don’t know nuthin’ ’bout man- 
ners, but I am strong as a man an if he don’t 
lack my style uv talkin’ let him pitch in, I’ll 
be ready fer his scalp, nuther will I go out 
when he comes I’m sot musef down here in 
this rocker an here I'll stay till I git ready ter 
leave.” “No, no, Lizzie, I did’ent mean he 
would’ent lack yer manners, I ax yer ter do the 
best yer kin fer my sake.” “I’ll do that Mandy 
fer ye, I won’t say nuthin’ ’ceptin’ what’s right, 
moreover, I won’t cuss over a dozent times, 
jest ter please yer.” “Oh child, yer mus’ent 
say cuss words a tall if yer kin possibly help 
it.” “Wa'al I’ll bite my tongue an try ter hold 
in though if he says sumpin’ ter hurt my feel- 
in’s he better look out.” “If you'll do that I’ll 
give yer a nice pound cake ter take home ter 
yer mammy, I’ll also give yer enough gingham 
ter make a apron if yer let him have that cheer 
when he comes.” “He won’t git this cheer if 
yer give me enough ter make a dress. I’ve 
been ploughin' terday an I’m as tired as he be.” 


I 


Quaker Jim 


55 


A snag was struck here, all of the coaxing 
Mandy could do amounted to nothing. Liz 
told her if any body got that chair it would 
be Nellie or LJncle Snort, never for a “Feller 
that did’ent work, besides I know enough 
’bout manners ter know its proper ter give 
ladies the rocker.” Another Hello ! was heard, 
this time Mandy ’s hopes were realized. There 
was Mrs. Kirby, Miss Edith, her daughter, 
with her long sharp nose and gold teeth, and 
there was Mr. Alten the polished gentleman, 
and last but not least, the “Squire” with his 
ever famous split tail coat and bagged pants 
that made him a conspicuous figure where ever 
he went. Mandy was delighted to see them, 
she grabbed Mrs. Kirby around the neck and 
gave her two or three kisses, she then fell 
upon Edith and tried to kiss her but poor 
Edith’s nose bore in on Mandy ’s jaw and 
caused them both to smart with pain, which 
promptly came to a sudden separation by 
“party of the first part and party of the second 
part.” Although the smack of the lips were 
distinctly heard we doubt very much whether 
Edith received that token of love and friend- 
ship meant to be so tenderly bestowed by 
Mandy. Had a flock of geese with all of their 
goslins and grand goslins held a reunion, 
there could'ent have been more chattering 
than that which was now taking place. The 
Squire was bowing right and left and Mr. 
Alten complimenting Mandy on her health 
and good looks for an “old lady.” In the 
meantime Liz held on to the rocker. All be- 


Quaker Jim 


56 

in g seated and the chatter becoming normal, 
Uncle Snort announced two more arrivals, 
these were Bob and his sister Bertha. Mandy 
managed to tear herself away from Mrs. Kirby 
long enough to go to the door, when she saw 
Bob her face turned white with anger under 
the coat of paint that adorned it. Mandy 
spoke very politely to Bertha and went so far 
as to kiss her, something entirely unexpected 
by her. Bob took off his hat and bowed to her 
but he was not recognized. This was a hard 
blow for him. “O, you who were seated in 
that room enjoying the friendship and love of 
all could you have seen the pain that shot 
through his heart, would you have upheld such 
an action? So much were they wrapped in 
their enjoyment not even his sister saw the 
insult hurled at him by Mandy Fox. Bob 
hesitated a moment. “Uncle Snort and Nellie 
asked me to come and if I was not wanted 
surely Nellie would’ent have invited me. I 
will stay on her account.” Bob took into con- 
sideration the total ignorance of Mandy, and 
followed his sister into the room. 

There was one present who was glad to 
see them that was old Aunt Sarah. She met 
Bertha and Bob half way across the room, in 
a low tone she said: “God bless Miss Bertha 
an Marse Bob, how is you? I'm so glad you 
bofe came I’ll tell Miss Nellie right away.” 
Bertha assured Sarah she was feeling quite 
well. Sarah asked the “Good Master” to bless 
them again and hurried out of the room to 
tell Nellie. Mrs. Kirby and Edith shook hands 


Quaker Jim 


57 


and introduced Mr. Alten to them. Pigeon- 
Toed-Liz hollowed out: "Hello, Bertha and 

Bob, Pglad ter see yer both, I’d git up an 
shake hands with yer but somebody mout git 
my cheer.” This brought forth a smile from 
all except Mandy and Mr. Alten. Mandy 
ground her teeth, while Henry looked terribly 
horrified. Uncle Snort was standing in the 
door way when Liz said this. He looked over 
at Mandy and saw the expression of disgust 
on her face. It was too much for the old 
gentleman, he had to make a hasty exit to re- 
strain from bursting forth. "Whoop ! I'll bet 
the ole lady is feeliir fine now. If we had a 
doctors aperatus ter stick down her throat, 
she’d register one twenty in the shade. I’d 
give the shoe Gray Eagle lost this mornin’ if 
Liz an the dude would git mixed up. Lord 
how I'd lack ter see the fur fly, Whoop! I’ll 
haft ter tell Nellie this sartin.” Uncle Snort 
was in this spell of laughter when the Quaker 
walked upon the porch. "Good evening to 
thee Mr. Fox, why such a hearty laugh?” 
"Oh, I jest got tickled ‘bout sumpin’ what 
happened a while ago, walk in Mr. Pent an 
make yerself ter home. Don't look at Mandy 
too hard fer thar’s fur in the air.” "What dost 
thee mean my good man?” "Nuthin’ jest go 
in.” Janies walked into the room, John started 
after him, a nudge on the shoulder caused him 
to step outside again. "Snort don’t yer think 
we better take anuther whiff ’fore goin' in 
thar?” "Yer mout git too much Possum.” 
"Bing-be-dinged if I kin tell I had a swaller.” 


58 Quaker Jim 

“Don’t take too much er yer can't talk ter the 
gals.” Possum took a pretty stiff pull from 
the bottle and smacked his lips with satisfac- 
tion. “Yer think we oughter give the Squire a 
drink Possum?” “No, let him buy his own, if 
he gits out here he'll dry the the bottle an yer 
can’t tell he had a drap. Above all don’t git 
where he kin smell yer breath or he’ll pester 
the life outen yer.” Possum had very little 
charity when it came to giving away whiskey. 
He never carried a drop of his own, though his 
breath did’ent always say so. Pie was always 
willing to divide another fellow’s bottle and say 
nothing about it to anyone. Snort and Pos- 
sum proceeded into the parlor with Possum 
now ready to give information on any point 
of law pertaining to Constablism. 

Everyone was in the parlor but Nellie. Bob 
wondered what could be keeping her, Mr. Al- 
ten twisted and turned in his chair, in an im- 
patient manner as if though she would come 
and relieve him of the burden of entertain- 
in Edith whom he thought would immediately 
go over to Bob as soon as Nellie come in 
and seated herself beside him. After a wait 
of five or ten minutes, in which Possum in- 
formed Mr. Alten that he was the “author of 
peace” in his county, much to the amusement 
of Uncle Snort and the Quaker, the door was 
swung open by Sarah. Nellie Gray walked 
into the presence of the men who had come 
many miles, the one to lead her, if possible, 
to destruction, the other to be her faithful 
friend through all of her troubles and trials, 


Quaker Jim 


59 


to bring her out of the grasp of revenge and 
deliver her to one whom she had promised her- 
self only a few hours before. The same sweet 
smile played on her face and the simplicity of 
her white sheer dress added grace and elegance 
to her lithe form. Bob looked at her in be- 
wilderment, while Henry Alten could not but 
help admire her beauty. With a graceful bow 
of her head she spoke to all and took a seat 
between Bob Tharpe and Uncle Snort. Mrs. 
Kirby looked at Mandy, while Mandy hung 
her head. Snort gave Bob a knowing wink 
and an honest tear fell from the old Ouaker’s 
eyes as he beheld his sister’s child. Even 
Pigeon-Toed-Liz remarked: “Cross eyed tom 

cats she does jest look grand.” Had a bolt 
of lightning struck Henry Alten he could not 
have been more surprised. There he saw be- 
fore him Bob Tharpe, a handsome man, that 
he could not deny for he had remarked as 
much to Edith. His conclusions naturally fol- 
lowed that Bob was her company. What was 
he to do? “I have come for revenge, and re- 
venge I will get. I can beat that fellow’s time 
without any trouble, he is nothing but a hired 
hand to Fox. That old lady is simple, she is 
easily worked on. I’ll get on the good side of 
her and have that fellow ousted in a short 
while. Brace up Leslie, old boy, and appear 
very courteous to the old girl, so that you may 
win. Then Mr. James Gray, perfect gentle- 
man, favorite in college, Naval Officer, and 
etc., you will know who you are tampering 
with next time.” 


6o 


Quaker Jim 


Henry straightened up in his chair and ap- 
peared very much interested in the conver- 
sation, especially when Mandy had anything 
to say. “How did you enjoy yourself yester- 
day, Nellie?” asked Edith by way of opening a 
conversation. “I had a very nice time, I as- 
sure you Edith.” “What did yer do?” broke 
in Uncle Snort, “buss everything in the house, 
includin’ the Squire?” “Now Uncle John you 
are starting again.” “Nevah mind Nellie, it is 
nothing to him if you did, he was angry be- 
cause he was’ent there to kiss a few.” “That’s 
what he be Squire,” chimed in Possum, “I’d 
bet two yearlin lambs ’ginst a bobtail yew 
that he’d buss any gal in the country ef Mandy 
war’ent a lookin.” “I gen'ly keep my eye on 
him, no gal ever gits close enuf fer that,” 
Mandy said with a knowing wink to Henry. 
This promptly brought an approval from him. 
“It is the first time I have had the pleasure of 
meeting Mrs. Fox but you can tell at a glance 
she is far too sharp to let one get the ad- 
vantage of her.” To put it in a baseball 
term, Mandy’s batting average soared far over 
the three hundred mark, so proud did she feel 
of Mr. Alten, that she went over and sat be- 
side him in the chair, she had placed there 
for Nellie. “Yes Mr. Alten I alus make it a 
pint ter keep up on every thing John does, 
or anybody else, so furs that’s consarned. Now 
thar’s ’em city folks come out here onct in a 
while ter our house, they say I hain’t a bit be- 
hind ’em ladies down thar.” “Indeed you are 
not Mrs. Fox. I could tell from the first few 


Quaker Jim 


6i 


words you spoke, there are hundreds of highly 
educated women who could’ent hold a candle 
with you.” “Thar's Niece Nellie,” continued 
Mandy, hardly giving Alten time to increase 
her pride, “she hain’t a bit lack me an me her 
own Aunt by marriage, think on that. She's 
very plain got no notions at all 'bout s’ciety, 
druther be settin’ sid’r common folks than a 
prince. Had a gradewatin edecation from one 
uv ’em big schools in the South. Tain’t me 
Mr. Alten, I sociate wuth people uv my stand- 
in.” This was meant for Bob, which Nellie 
and he well knew. “Its the duty of one to 
associate with their equals, periiaps Miss Nel- 
lie is a little timid Mrs. Fox.” “Wa-al I 
reckon she be, tain’t right ater the edecation 
she got. I know when I wuz a young gal all 
the boys uster come ter see me, an they said I 
could court twenty or more wuthout any 
trouble.” “I never seed any twenty when I 
went thar,” John spoke up. “You know John 
thar uster be one or two an some uv the 
highest standin’ boys in the neighborhood ter 
that.” “I wushed one er two woulder got 
yer,” John said by the way of joke. “Amen,” 
answered the Quaker in full earnest. “Now 
Mr. Fox you know you don’t mean that.” “G ! 
yes Mr. Alten, she gits purty pwert some- 
times.” “Its kase I haf ter be, I’m higher 
minded than he be an wanter go wuth the best, 
not wuth common folks.” Something at this 
juncture seemed to tell Mandy she better be- 
ware. She looked over at Liz, there she was, 
eyeing her from head to foot. “I reckon all 


62 


Quaker Jim 


the crowd kin see by me,” said Iiz, “I belong 
ter the common class an don’t ker if I do. I’m 
as good as anybody whether I be edecated or 
not, sides Mandy Fox hain’t got no more 
schoolin’ than a rat an if Nellie Gray wants ter 
go with common folks I don’t think Mandy 
oughter be meddlin’ in. ’Sides Nellie's got 
plenty money an she kin go with who she 
pleases. I’ll guarantee if she takes a good 
hard workin’ man she mout do better than 
takin’ some half way dude what runs all over 
the country an never does nuthin.” This put 
an end to Mandy ’s slurs and made Alten feel 
rather badly for a while. Snort chuckled and 
Possum giggled while pretty near every one 
had to smile. “Mr. Pent how do you like your 
new place?'’ “Very well Mrs. Kirby so far. 
It is better than I expected.” “It will seem 
strange to be away from your people will it 
not?” “No, no, I make myself at home wher- 
ever I go.'’ “Then this is not your first trip 
away from your settlement?” “I was in Cin- 
cinnati two y^ears before coming here." “What 
business were you in Suh?” asked the Squire. 
“Merchandise.” “Did’ent you like the city 
Suh?” “Yes, but I am getting old, I thought 
it would be better to get a small place in the 
country where I could be more at ease.” 
“Why did’ent ye go back ter yer own country 
then?” spoke up Possum. “The doctor told me 
I could not stand the climate.” “Air ye mar- 
ried?" “No Sir, I never enjoyed the pleasure 
of married life.” “Any kin folks?” This was 
a delicate question for James with his brother 


Quaker Jim 


63 


and Niece present. “Relations you mean?” 
Wes, brothers an sisters, course what do ye 
reckon?” “I have no near relations.” “Bet- 
ter hunt up a gal an git married.” “I am his 
girl,” Nellie said in a jocular tone. Yes. 
Nellie so far as true love and devotion are con- 
cerned you are the nearest to a girl he ever had. 
The Quaker glanced softly upon Nellie. “I 
think Mr. Boone ’tis better to marry young, 
so thee can enjoy the true happiness of thy 
wife and children. Why are thee not married 
my good friend?” “I’ve axed Liz a dozent 
times an I’m only waitin’ fer her ter give her 
word.” “Wa’al jest keep on a waitin’ Possum 
till I tell yer.” “Speaking of marriages,” con- 
tinued the Quaker, “Miss Nellie and Mr. Tharpe 
are what I consider the proper age.” “Yes,” said 
Uncle Snort, “an thars sumpin’ up twixt 'em too, 
I sent Bob up the road this cevenin’ ter meet 
Nellie an I seed him buss her, kase I follered 
along behind.” Snort told this in jest but 
Nellie looked at Bob and he at her, their faces 
turned a deep crimson.” “Ah, I tole yer, see 
’em blushin’.” “Uncle John if you don’t quit 
teasing me I am going away never to return.” 
“That’s what I be ’feared on, ye won’t go 
single handed though, ye'll be tied up. I tole 
Bob this cevenin’ he better look sharp, that 
Mr. Alten would have ye an gone 'fore he 
could say scat.” “I surely would like the 
pleasure, Miss Nellie,” answered Alten. 
“What yer got ter say ter that Bob?” “You 
are talking about something I don’t under- 
stand Mr. Fox.” “I do think Nellie an Mr. 


64 


Quaker Jim 


Alten would make sich a nice couple don’t ye 
Mrs. Kirby, an they’d be on equality too,” was 
Mandy’s remark. Nellie cut the whole thing 
short by saying: “I don’t think matches should 
be made at gatherings do you Mr. Alten?" Of 
course Mr. Alten had to say no, in order not 
to offend Nellie. “Understand me Miss Gray, 
when I said thee and Mr. Tharpe were about 
the proper age, I meant no proposition towards 
a match, lest it be thy free will," the Quaker 
said in an apologizing tone. “I know you 
mean no offense Mr. Pent, nor did I to any- 
one. I think it is time we are all done tor- 
menting let’s enjoy the cake and wine Aunt 
Sarah is bringing in.” “I’ll agree ter that 
Miss Nellie, sartin as my name is Possum 
Boone, Constable uv Washington County, 
State of Kentucky.” 

Aunt Sarah brought in a plate of cake, each 
guest was served with a glass of delicious 
wine made from the grapes of Uncle Snort’s 
vineyard. Aunt Sarah passed the refreshments 
first to the ladies, then to the gentlemen. It 
so happened that poor Possum was last to re- 
ceive his, while Mr. Alten “Had first pick,” 
to put it in Uncle Snort’s phrase. Alten helped 
himself to a glass, and a pretty good slice of 
cake. He complimented Mandy very highly 
on her good cake, not knowing Sarah was the 
baker, nor did Mandy try to dissuade him from 
this belief. Pigeon-Toed- Liz gave honor to 
whom honor belonged however. “Deed this 
is none uv Mandy’s cake this is Sarah’s. She 
never knowed how ter make a cake lack that 


Quaker Jim 65 

in her life time.” Mandy informed Mr. Alten 
that she superintended all of the cooking which 
was enough to say the cake would never have 
tasted so good, if she had’ent been there to 
look after it. Possum kept a close watch on 
Alten, when he took the cake and wine. “Look 
Snort,” he whispered, “the dude took the big- 
gest piece uv cake and glass uv wine on 
the tray.” “Let him go Possum, he mout 
choke tereckly, then he won't take so much 
next time.” “He sartinly has been use ter 
stayin' in a city boardin’ house, whar ye grab 
all ye git an all ye don’t git sticks as well 
ter yer ribs as what ye do.” The tray was 
passed on, each piece that was taken, Possum 
would squint his eyes, thinking it the largest 
on the plate, till finally it reached him and 
Snort. There were two pieces of cake left, 
one almost double the other in size, likewise 
the wine, there was a full glass and a half 
glass. Snort picked up the largest piece of 
cake. Possum thought he would divide even 
by taking the smaller tumbler of wine. In- 
stead he also reached for the fidl glass of wine. 
“Be fair, Snort, be fair, I've been honest wutli 
ye, it hain't square ter do a feller that o’way,” 
the constable whispered in his ear. Snort 
did’ent seem to hear him. He picked up the 
glass drained the contents at one swallow and 
commenced to pinch the cake off in bites very 
unconcernedly. Bob being temperanced 
slipped his glass over to Possum, so did Nel- 
lie. tie drank them both with a read good 
will. 




66 Quaker Jim 

From early times of ancient history, we read 
of kings and rulers being addicted to drink, and 
so through all ages we come down to the pres- 
ent day, we still find some of our most noted 
men are subject to intoxication; and thus we 
find right here amid the ladies and gentlemen 
present in Mandy’s parlor one who should give 
good example to his younger companions, a 
victim of Uncle Snort’s grape juice. Not say- 
ing, however, the Squire made it a habit, on 
the contrary he drank very little, except, like 
Possum, it was thrust upon him or he encour- 
aged some one to give him a swallow just to 
be neighborly, or to leave them an event that 
could be handed down to their children’s chil- 
dren. It would not be logical to say that one 
small glass of wine would put the Squire into 
such a talking humor so suddenly, nor could we 
say with good reason it would make him go over 
and take Possum, who was now tilted to a bal- 
ance with the Squire, by the hand and tell what 
a brave and courageous officer he was, and how 
much he thought of him ; the maker of peace 
and protector of the rights of the people, when 
the ladies drank as much as he without any 
noticeable effects whatever. Therefore, we 
must conclude, he either had something before 
he came, or Uncle Snort instructed Sarah to 
put something in his glass, which was handed 
to him apart from the others, and which Uncle 
Snort would never affirm or deny, but when 
mentioned would wink his eye and chuckle. 
“Possum do you know I always thought you 
one of the most congenial men I evah met 


Quaker Jim 


67 


Suh.” Pos sum did not exactly know the mean- 
ing of congenial, thinking it meant a shrewd 
man, he readily agreed with the Squire, that 
he was right. “I thank ye Squire, I’m glad 
that somebody has at last found what a master 
uv the Constitooshin an By Laws uv this great 
commonwealth I be.” With another shake of 
the hand, the Squire exclaimed: “My deah 

Possum you don't seem to understand Suh. By 
congenial I mean to say you are a real clevah 
fellow, and you are very sociable, Suh.” Pos- 
sum looked at the Squire, his little squint eyes 
started to blink in wonderment. He drew his 
underlip so far into his mouth as to cause the 
goatee to stand erect. The constable thought 
he had “smelt a mouse,” “Squire I think I 
understand ye, I’ll be honest I hain’t got a 
drap, have I Snort?” “No Siree,” answered 
Snort, who was listening to the conversation 
with much merriment, and who took the 
Squire’s “congenial” to mean the same as Pos- 
sum’s last interpretation. “David,” said the 
Squire’s wife, “we are going home.” “Just 
a ’moment deah. I want to say to you brother 
Possum, I say brother Possum, because I love 
you and Snort as brothers, that it will be a 
great source of pleasah both to me and Sally 
(Mrs. Kirby), to have you call at any time. 
Now do come ovah and sit until bed time, any 
evening Suh.” “I’ll come sartin as I live some 
night Squire, an we’ll have a game uv sledge, 
ding-be-dinged if we don’t, what ye say 
Snort?” “Wa’al maybe.” “One word ’fore ye 
go Squire, does that Mr. Alten be well posted 


68 


Quaker Jim 


on the clooties uv a citizen uv the county?” “O, 
yes, he is a highly educated gentleman, I’ll 
assuah you he is up in mattahs of that kind as 
well as you or I Suh.” “Wa’al he did'ent ax 
me any questions 'bout it,” said Possum, be- 
ing a little miffed because he did’ent, after him 
making such preparations to answer all ques- 
tions put before him. “David, I say it is time 
we were going.” “Yes deah, yes. Now in 
pahting from you Snawt I will say I nevah en- 
joyed a more pleasant evening in many a day 
Suh.” “I thank ye Squire, ye must come over 
agin.” 

In the meantime Miss Edith and Mr. Alten 
were telling Mandy and Nellie of the good 
time they had. “Mrs. Fox I am proud of this 
visit indeed, you have treated me so nicely 
that I can never forget you.” “Yes, Mr. Alten 
I always treat people in my standing jest as 
well as I kin. Ye put the ’pression on my 
mind that ye air a real genteel young man, 
an it gives me gret feelin’s ter treat yo’ lack 
sich.” “Again I thank you Mrs. Fox, you sound 
so much like a mother to me.” “Now ye must 
come over again soon.” “I will,” he hesitated, 
“that is if it is pleasing to Miss Nellie.” “Why 
Mr. Alten, Aunt Mandy’s invitation is suf- 
ficient for any one to be welcomed by me.” 
“Well Miss Nellie, if there are no objections I 
will call Sunday evening. I am sure Mrs. Kir- 
by’s family will be glad to get rid of me for a 
while.” “Yes Mr. Alten, ye jest come right 
on, Nellie's got no company, an she’d be glad 
ter have ye.” Mrs. Kirby demanded once more 




I 


Quaker Jim 69 

of her husband to get ready. The Squire got 
his hat, he bowed and thanked Mrs. Fox so 
often for the splendid time shown him, that in 
one of his swinging low bows, his coat tail came 
in contact with a glass sitting on the table 
and swept it off on the floor into many pieces. 
The Squire in his courtesies to Mandy knew 
not what he had done, until Pigeon-Toed- Liz 
said : “Hold up yer tail Squire ye mout brake 
another one.” This caused him to give a sud- 
den jump that upset the whole table. “Ye’ve 
done it now,” remarked Liz. After seeing 
what he had done he commenced at a ferocious 
rate of apologizing and kept it up until his 
wife told him to “come on and reserve some of 
his tongue for the next visit.” The Kirbys 
took their departure, Edith and Mr. Alten 
went out arm in arm, while the Squire held 
fast to Sally, least his knees give way or he 
made a mis-step, for the wine had started to 
work on him with such fury that to let go 
might cause a sudden connection with the 
floor. Snort said he could hear his hiccough 
“purty nigh all the way home, an that thar wuz 
added another grease spot ter the already many 
on the split tail coat.” Possum begged Snort 
out of “anuther drap outen the bottle,” and 
Liz and he went out to mount their steeds. It 
happened that Possum got on the wrong side 
of “Shoo-Fly,” which caused the stately mule 
to kick, and squeal viciously. Possum backed 
out of the way and came around to the blind 
side, which seemed to appease her anger im- 
mediately. Possum had to use some gentle 


7o 


Quaker Jim 


and kind words before he could get around 
“Shoo-Fly” such as, “Wo, darlin’, Possum 
hain't agoin’ ter hurt his little mule, I’ll feed 
ye good when we git home Shoo-Fly. ” Now 
just to say what made him get on the wrong 
side is a matter of conjecture. We do know 
that he hitched her right when he came. 
Could some one have turned her around, that 
theory does’ent seem plausible, for we know 
that no one could go near the mule. Perhaps 
he went over to assist Liz? That is’ent prob- 
able for Liz could mount a horse much better 
and faster than our constable. Why Possum 
got on the wrong side, Uncle Snort would tell 
you, “charity forbid him to say.” 

Bertha and Bob were getting ready to go. 
Nellie came over to Bertha and insisted on 
her staying over night. “Oh! I can’t Nellie, 
Bob will have no one to prepare his breakfast.” 
“Fie can come here for breakfast can’t he Uncle 
John?” “Why sartinly if he wants ter.” “I 
would like to stay, but really I can’t.” “Yes 
you can, I want to tell you something.” “Yes 
Bertha ye must stay wuth Nellie ternight,” 
spoke up Mandy. “Bob can I stay?” Bob 
saw Nellie looking at him with a pleading 
countenance, though he thought at first to re- 
fuse but changed his mind. “You may do as 
you please Bertha. I can prepare my own 
breakfast.” “If ye don’t git nuthin’ Bob ye 
jest come right on over here an I’ll see ye 
git o ’snack.” “I thank you Mr. Fox for 
your kindness. I will have eaten and be over 
before you get up.” “I will arise early and 


Quaker Jim 


7 1 


cook it for you Bob.” “No, Nellie I would’ent 
want you to put yourself to that trouble.” 
“It would’ent be trouble.” “I’ll tell ye what,” 
said Snort, “Jest stay all night.” “I could’ent 
do that, you know we both can't stay away 
from home.” “Wa'al then ye do as I tole ye, 
Sarah’ll be up long ’fore day.” Bob walked 
out on the porch, Nellie followed him. “Pay 
no attention to Aunt Mandy Bob, I am so 
sorry she said what she did tonight.” “Nellie, 
don't worry yourself over the slurs and in- 
sults she cast at me. I will look over them 
for your sake. For the present I am not com- 
ing in the house except on business with your 
Uncle.” “You know Bob she invited that Mr. 
Alten over Sunday night I could’ent say no.” 
“I know it Nellie, nor do I think hard of my 
little girl, and come out to see me as often 
as you can, for Nellie you are the only con- 
solation I have, and the sight of you will give 
me courage to work hard for that end which 
we agreed upon this afternoon.” “I will do 
that Bob as often as I possibly can.” “All 
right my dear.” With a kiss he bade her good 
night and glided softly off the porch into the 
silvery moonlight on his way home. Nellie 
watched as far as she could see him, then 
returned into the parlor to find no one but the 
Quaker. “Where have they gone?” “They 
went into your Aunt’s room.” She thought 
he was studying over some business, so she 
started to repair to the sitting room, when 
the Quaker stopped her. “Stay my child, 
where are thee going? Come sit thee down.” 


72 


Quaker Jim 


‘‘Are you lonesome Mr. Pent?” “Yes child I 
am.” “You are thinking of your people, and 
you so far from them tonight?” “No child I 
think of thee.” What could he mean? Nellie 
was in a quandary. “What makes you think 
of me Mr. Pent?” “I can’t tell thee yet 'child, 
but every time I look at thee, thee reminds me 
of the one I loved.” “Your girl?” “No child 
it was my sister who is dead.” “I can sympa- 
thize with you, for I have been unfortunate in 
losing my father and mother.” “Child if I 
would ask thee one question, wouldst thou an- 
swer me frankly?” “It is according to what 
it relates Mr. Pent.” “It is not much in fact 
nothing concerning me. You know I told thee 
one day I would be a friend to thee.” Nellie 
could not understand what he wanted to know. 
She almost knew that he meant no such thing 
as a proposal to a young girl like her. After 
hesitating a little she said, “Yes Mr. Pent, I 
will.” “Well it is this, doest thee love Mr. 
Tharpe a little?” “I do.” “Then stick to him 
child and beware of that man who came witn 
Mr. Kirby tonight. Promise me thee will 
tell no one what I told thee tonight.” “I 
won’t Mr. Pent.” That was enough for James, 
he knew if Nellie said she would’ent tell, that 
nothing could make her. “I must go to rest 
now child and may thee have happy memories 
of me when I am gone.” “Mr. Pent, stay, tell 
me what you know of this man?” “Child I 
can tell thee no more at present. When I 
have accomplished my work, then thee will 
understand what I say by pleasant memories 


Quaker Jim 


73 


of me. I will say to thee fear not, I am thy 
friend. Good night my child.” “Good night 
Mr. Pent.” All of these things were a puzzle 
to Nellie. Could the Quaker be a man of un- 
sound mind or could he be plotting some mis- 
chief. “No if he was he never would have 
told me to stand by Bob. He says he is my 
friend and I believe him. I think he knows 
more than he tells about this Mr. Alten, and 
wishes to befriend me. I will take his advice 
and do what he says.” Nellie Gray went out 
of the parlor with a deep feeling of gratitude 
and friendship for the old Quaker whom she 
now believed to be a friend and to whom she 
could confide anything without fear. 


74 


Quaker Jim 


CHAPTER V. 

Things went along smoothly for the rest of 
the week. The Quaker took possession of his 
store and left the Fox homestead with a fer- 
vent invitation to Nellie to come and see him 
often, which she promised to do. He had won 
her confidence so completely that nothing 
could persuade her to doubt his word. She 
had a feeling for him equal to a child for a 
father and she said : he felt closer to her than 
anyone except Uncle Snort, since Uncle Tim 
had left. “He reminded me so much of Uncle 
James in his ways, were he not a Quaker, that 
I would say it is surely he. So much sym- 
pathy and kindness never thinking of himself, 
only for the welfare and happiness of others. 
He is a real dear old man and Heaven will 
reward his charity. 11 

She went out every day to see Bob, they 
would talk over their future plans and how 
they were to manage to accomplish them. 
That Mandy would not consent to the mar- 
riage was without a single doubt. What she 
would do to prevent it they knew not, what 
they did know, however, was that she had 
some plan mapped out that they must frus- 
trate. Nellie knew Bob would not consent 
to the marriage until he had used every pos- 


Quaker Jim 


75 


sible means to be at peace with Mandy, con- 
sequently, they must wait, wait until Mandy’s 
pride was crushed and she brought back to 
her normal sphere by the one she hated and 
feared most. 

Sunday afternoon came, a day that drove 
terror into Nellie’s heart, for the words of the 
Quaker clung to her memory like a drowning 
man to a straw. “Beware of that man.” She 
was ordered by Mandy to prepare herself, 
“Mr. Alten was cornin’ alone.” “Aunt Mandy 
I thought Edith was coming with him.” 
“What she wanter come fer? Ye air the 
one he wants ter see. He don’t ker 
nuthin’ ’bout Edith, he’s settin’ ter ye.” 
“Oh, he is? Auntie he may set a long time.” 
“An then won’t hatch, will he, Nellie?” put in 
Snort. “John ye shet yer mouth, Em govern- 
in Nellie’s affairs. I want her ter ’sociate 
wutli Mr. Alten kase he is a gentleman, an I 
don’t wanter hear any more ’bout Bob Tharpe, 
let him go on an git somebody in his standin’. 
Nellie’s not ter go wuth him an that settles it 
fust, last, an fur all time, do ye hear me?” 
“Be careful of whom you refer as not a gentle- 
man Aunt Mandy.” Mandy payed no atten- 
tion to this but continued ; “no longer than the 
mornin’ uv the social she abused me lack a 
dog, she tole me I had nuthin’ ter do wuth her 
affairs, that she would go wuth who she saw 
fit. I bein’ umble uv heart sat an took it with- 
out a word. Now she gits up ter tell me agin 
what she thinks ’bout me afore ye. John ye 
better make that gal mind me er thar’ll be 


Quaker Jim 


trouble an lots of it ter boot.” “Nellie go on 
an git ready, yer Aunt’s got a cross spell ter- 
day.” “I will go to please you, Uncle John, 
but for her, never.” “That’s a good gal go on 
an me an ye’ll hitch up Gray Eagle one day 
next week an go over ter Bertha’s an stay all 
day, an ’sides I'll buy a quarters wuth o’candy 
an ye an Bertha kin eat the whole business.” 
“Now jest listen ter that, make a bigger baby 
outen her than what she be.” “Mandy ye kin 
git a dumb brute ter do things by kindness 
that ye can’t make ’em budge by force.” “She 
mout as well ter be gettin’ outen ’em ways, an 
commence ter be a womern, as ter be poutin’ 
’round here all her life, I think more on her 
than ye do by makin’ her mind me.” After 
Nellie had gone upstairs, Snort said to his 
wife: “Don't ye never in my presence abuse 

that gal again.” This brought tears to Mandy’s 
eyes, she went on about how she was abused 
both by Snort and her Niece, it only deter- 
mined her the more that Bob Tharpe could not 
keep company with Nellie. Mr. Alten came 
alone as stated, Mandy went in and shook 
hands with him, of course he flattered her and 
had her almost ready to idolize the ground he 
walked on, he also showed great attention to 
Nellie but he was far too wise to try any of 
his flattery on her. He could see at a glance 
that there was as much difference in disposi- 
tion between the two as there was between 
night and day. “I think Miss Nellie your 
Aunt has such lovely ways, so kind and gener- 
ous, so motherly like, it is a pity she has 


Quaker Jim 


77 


no children of her own, though I am sure 
you love her as a mother." “It gives me 
great pleasure Mr. Alten to hear you talk of 
Auntie in that manner though 3/mt only have 
known her for a few days.” Nellie could plain- 
ly see Henry Alten was telling a falsehood, 
she knew it would please her Aunt, who was 
leaving the room, thus she thanked him for 
the compliment. “Mr. Pent is a delightful 
old gentleman is’ent he?” asked Nellie, try- 
ing to find out if Alten really knew anything 
about him. “The Quaker you mean?” “Yes.” 
“I never had the pleasure of conversing with him, 
though he seems to be a quaint old fellow and 
a real good talker, I think. I would like to 
get him in a private conversation, he would 
be interesting, like myself he has probably 
travelled extensively and, therefore, would be 
interesting company for me.” “I think quite 
a lot of him, Mr. Alten, I must go to see him, 
he has the store at the village, he purchased 
it of Mr. Pearce last week.” “Oh ! he is a 
stranger then, I am not alone?” “No, he only 
came the day after you.” “If he is like me, 
he will not be long in getting acquainted in 
this section.” No doubt, thought Nellie, if you 
keep up at your present rate you will have all 
the old women, like Aunt Mandy, thinking 
you fell from the skies. “You seem to be a 
good entertainer with the old people,” Nellie 
said in answer. “I make myself at home both 
with old and young Miss Nellie. Down in my 
country I was quite a favorite, especially with 
the gentle sex.” “I hope you attain to such a 


\ 




73 


Quaker Jim 

stage here.” “No doubt I will, but you know 
we all have our favories, and I am no ex- 
ception to the rule. While I may make many 
friends, I have but one purpose.” “And what 
is that Air. Alten?” “I could’ent tell you just 
now it is quite too early, I hope to be able to 
let you know some day soon, I pray my pur- 
pose will be granted.” “I hope so, I suppose 
your object is the restoration of your health, 
something we all hope for.” “It is not only 
that, it is for another purpose I came. I could 
not say it is a business transaction, but a 
rather more delicate one.” Nellie knew what 
he meant, not to give him an encouragement 
she promptly changed the subject. “Aliss 
Bertha is a pleasant little thing is’ent she?” 
“Yes. Is that Air. Tharpe’s sister?” “That is 
his sister and the only living relative he has.” 
“Air. Tliarpe is employed by your Uncle is he 
not?” “Yes, a rather clever fellowq a fine 
young man.” “He has no education has he?” 
“Only what he studied at home, he is a self 
made man.” “By the way, some one told me 
he is your company, he is’ent here tonight.” 
“Who told you?” “Just a little bird passed 
by the way and whispered.” Nellie some- 
times had a way, like her Uncle Snort, of giv- 
ing short answers and asking pertinent ques- 
tions. “Did the bird resemble Edith Kirby?” 
“No, not quite, I heard it however.” “Is’ent 
he all right?” “Oh, yes, but like your dear 
Aunt I think it would be more natural for 
people of social equality to stay in the limits.” 
Alten had gone a step too far he had gotten 


Quaker Jim 


79 


into a bad place. Nellie tried to restrain a 
blush, you could see she was hurt and hurt 
deeply. “Mr. Alien nature knows no law be- 
tween Gentlemen.” “Miss Nellie I beg your 
pardon I only meant, as Mr. Tharpe was em- 
ployed by your Uncle he was perhaps some- 
what inferior to you socially.” “Mr. Tharpe 
is inferior to no human, Mr. Alten.” This 
brought the conversation to a close. Alten 
took his leave with another engagement given 
by Nellie to please her Aunt. 

Alten’s visit was anything but satisfactory 
to him. On his way home, he planned many 
ways to accomplish his purpose. Bob Tharpe 
would appear the obstacle to every one of 
them. “It is a foregone conclusion that Nellie 
is in love with that fellow Tharpe. Plegg him, 
I wish he was’ent in my way. He may have 
her after I am done, if he won’t interfere now. 
I did say I would have him ousted by that 
foolish old woman. Pshaw! if she loves that 
fellow what good would that do. It would 
only be adding fuel to the fire. She has money 
and not dependent on her Uncle as I thought. 
I wonder if I could use him, more than likely 
he wants her as badly as she does him. I have 
an idea, I will go to see Tharpe to-morrow, lay 
my plans before him and make him believe 
the only way he can get her is to follow out 
the instructions laid down by me. Plenry sup- 
pose he refuses to do as you say, what then?” 
The thought flashed before him. “If he does 
Henry has another card up his sleeve that will 
put Mr. Tharpe out of the game altogether.” 


8o 


Quaker Jim 


Allen went home and slept with a clear con- 
science that night for he was happy in the 
thought that he would have revenge soon. He 
was up bright and early next morning on his 
way to bribe a man to sell in a special manner 
the woman who had promised to be his wife 
only a few days before. Will he do it? Henry 
thinks so. He did not go close to Fox’s house 
lest he be seen by Nellie. He rode around be- 
hind the barn where he thought to find Bob. 
In this he was mistaken, he confronted Aunt 
Sarah, who was there feeding the chickens. 
‘‘Auntie, could you tell me where I could find 
Mr. Tharpe?” “He’s gone to de stoe, what 
you want wid him?” “I want to see him on a 
little business concerning no one but myself.” 
“I’d er tole him fo’ you, sence you are so smart 
go tell him yo’ self.” Sarah went on feeding 
her chickens without paying any more atten- 
tion to him. Alten turned his horse around 
and rode on down the road towards the store, 
thinking he might meet Bob on the way. He 
rode up in front of “The Quaker’s,” as it had 
now become known, hitched his horse, and 
walked in. There he found Bob and the 
Quaker talking over the market. “Good morn- 
ing gentlemen.” “Flow do you do, Mr. Alten,” 
Bob said, while the Quaker gave a courteous 
bow. “It is a fine morning, Mr. Tharpe.” 
“Yes you are out early?” “I want to get the 
fresh morning air, it is so invigorating, and 
don’t you know Tharpe you are the very chap 
I want to see.” “What can I do for you Mr. 
Alten?” “I will look that up for thee Bob, 




jXZu 







Quaker Jim 


8i 


though I don’t think it is here.” “All right 
Mr. Pent, I wish you would I will wait for 
you.” The Quaker became suspicious just as 
soon as Alten wanted to see Bob. He started 
as if going to the rear of the store, but when 
they turned their backs to him, dropped behind 
the counter and could hear every word uttered. 
“You said you wished to see me Mr. Alten, 
what is it?” “Do you want Nellie Gray for a 
wife?” “I never told any one I did, why?” 
“I know you love her Tharpe and it’s only 
through me you can get her.” “How is that?” 
“It is this way she does care for you, while her 
Aunt despises you.” “I know that Mr. Alten.” 
“Now you see, old boy, I want to do you a 
friendly turn and I want you to do me one.” 
“I will be glad to do any thing for you I could 
Mr. Alten.” “I want you to quit having any- 
thing to do with Nellie, not even speak to her 
till I tell you.” “What are your reasons for 
that?” “1 can't tell you now, old chap, you 
will see in less than a year what it all means, 
then you will be glad you did what I told you.” 
“You say there is no chance for her to be- 
come my wife unless I do what you say?” 
“None whatever, Tharpe, unless you do it. I 
will assure you I am not playing you false.” 
“You can’t possibly tell me your reasons for 
this?” “No.” “This will be doing both you 
and me a favor?” “Yes it will old fellow and, 
moreover, I will reward you handsomely for 
your trouble.” “You will reward me hand- 
somely?” “I certainly will, besides turning 
Nellie over to you I will make you a present 


82 


Quaker Jim 


that you will be proud of.” Bob’s face was 
flushed, he looked Alten straight in the face. 
“Mr. Alten, I know you are a man of wealth, 
you came, perhaps, from an illustrious family. 
I am neither, I work for every penny I get, 
you could lay your gold at my feet, you could 
make me the most distinguished man of the 
South, and I would refuse to do one thing 
to assist you to harm a hair on Nellie Gray’s 
head.” “Very well, Tharpe, then I will see 
that you never get her." Alten being high 
tempered did not stop to hear any more but 
rushed out of the store like a mad man, got 
on his horse and rode away. Bob watched 
him until he had had gotten out of sight, when 
he turned around the Quaker was standing 
there. “I could not find it for thee Bob, I will 
have to send and get some.” “All right, I am 
much obliged for your trouble.” “Not at all 
Bob. Where did Mr. Alten go. He must have 
been in a hurry?” “It seemed so from the 
way he went out.” “Alten and thee seemed to 
have a very earnest conversation?” “It was 
rather earnest with me, Mr. Pent.” “Is he 

about to win thy girl from thee?” “What 

girl?” “Miss Nellie, of course. I heard he 
called upon her last evening.” “Yes I believe 
he did.” “What was the matter with thee, that 
thee did not call?” “Why Miss Nellie is only 
a friend of mine Mr. Pent, and not my com- 
pany.” “Not? I thought she was.” “No, we 
were raised together, and are very fond of each 
other as friends, that makes a great many 
people think we are in love.” “I for one,” said 


83 


Quaker Jim 

the Quaker. “I don’t see what makes you 
think so.” “Bob thee are jesting with me, I 
know more perhaps than thee think. Thee 
has just had hasty words with Mr. Alten about 
her.” “Did you hear them?” “Most of them, 
yes. Thee did right in telling that man what 
thee did. It makes me feel proud of thee to 
see thee defend the innocent so bravely.” I 
did only what I thought my duty.” “Don’t 
fear Bob thy time will come, he may do some- 
thing for spite to have thee separated from 
Nellie, don’t give up, something will come 
some day to prove thee worthy of the one thee 
love. I heard him say Mrs. Fox did not think 
well of thee?” “She don’t like me much Mr. 
Pent.” “Ah ! That will be the loop hole for 
him to deprive thee from seeing Nellie. Alten 
will get Mrs. Fox to forbid her to see thee.” 
“She has done that already Mr. Pent.” “Has 
she? The two of them will hatch up a false- 
hood about thee and try to get Nellie to dislike 
thee.” “I would’ent be surprised.” “Don’t 
lose courage my good man even if it does ap- 
pear that Nellie treats thee coldly at times, 
think not hard of it, thee will win her in the 
end.” “I thank you Mr. Pent, for such good 
advice.” “Show no discourtesy to Mrs. Fox, 
at the same time have as little to do with her 
as possible, she is proud, very proud, until that 
pride is banished she will be thy enemy.” “Do 
you think at her age she will ever overcome those 
ways?” “Yes, some day some one is going to 
teach her a lesson she will never forget, and it 
will hurt her so much, she will be one of the 


8 4 


Quaker Jim 


most humble women of this neighborhood.” 
“I hope so for poor Nellie’s sake.” “I notice 
the child is much humiliated over the Aunt’s 
ways.” “Yes she is Mr. Pent.” “She will reap 
a rich reward in the near future, for the suf- 
ferings caused by her Aunt.” “Do you think 
so?” “I am almost sure. I never saw it fail 
where one is abused by another continually 
and unjustly that the abused party did not rise 
above the other sooner or later.” “In that I 
believe you are right. I must be going now 
Mr. Pent, Uncle Snort will think I have run 
away.” “Remember Bob what I have told 
thee and let me know from time to time how 
thee are getting on, some day I may be of serv- 
ice to thee.” Bob looked at the Quaker in con- 
fusion? “What is the matter friend?” “You 
seem to be much interested in Nellie and my- 
self, Mr. Pent, why is it?” “I took a liking to 
the little girl, and when I heard thee refuse to 
go in with Alten on his scheme I could not but 
help admire thee.” “I am very glad someone 
takes an interest in us.” “Have no fear friend 
I will tell nothing, for thy sake, for Nellie’s 
sake and for my sake.” “Why your sake?” 
“That thee will find out in due time, for the 
present, as I told th}^ little girl, I am thy 
friend. Say nothing of what I have said to 
thee, evcept to Nellie, come to see me as often 
as thee can and never give up hope it mat- 
ters not what happens.” “I won’t Mr. Pent.” 
“Good day, Friend.” “Good day Mr. Pent.” 
Bob, like Nellie, left the Quaker with the 
full satisfaction he was a friend. Bob refusing 


Quaker Jim 85 

to assist Alten in his mad course for revenge, 
brought the wrath of Alten upon him. “I have 
both of them to fight eh? Well I will fix Mr. 
1 harpe for that, if I would lay my gold at his 
feet he would refuse to help me? I won’t lay 
my gold at your feet Mr. Tharpe neither will 
I make you a ‘distinguished’ son of the South. 
I will have you discharged, just to show you 
what I can do. When you go hungry for a 
while, I reckon you will not object to a little 
of my gold then. You can't get that girl, even 
if I have to marry her myself, Mr. Smart Yap.” 
When thrown into a heat of passion, Alten 
would make hasty remarks, after cooling down 
he would see where he was wrong, and usually 
fixed some cunning plan to carry out his ob- 
ject. When he had gotten over this paroxysm, 
he started in to study a more apt way to shield 
himself, than what he had threatened a mo- 
ment before. “Ah, I lost my temper again, 
and let that fellow get the best of me. I 
should have had better sense in the first place 
than to have-asked him to do anything against 
Nellie. I will give him credit, he is a pretty 
straight forward kind of a chap, I wish I could 
be that way, though I can’t I reckon. If I had 
been poor like him I would never think of any- 
thing but work. He is happy where I am 
nothing but a fool.” Here he paused, he thought 
of his people, what an old family he was a de- 
Cendant, how he had been reared, how above 
the average man his advantages were. Now 
he thought of how he had been humiliated by 
James Gray. “Me a fool! Any man would 


86 Quaker Jim 

defend himself against one who had disgraced 
him before his family and acquaintances.” But 
did you not through jealousy try to wrest from 
another man what he had honestly won ? Did 
you not do more, in so wresting this honor 
from your schoolmate did’ent you know- 
ingly and willingly cripple him, and though 
you did not intend to hurt him severely, you 
made him a cripple for life? Had you been a 
man of honor and principle would you not 
have walked to your schoolmate and shook his 
hand in congratulation? These were some of 
the pangs of conscience which will always ap- 
peal for the better part of man when contem- 
plating some evil deed. But thought Henry : 
“Should I not have the Captaincy of the Foot- 
ball team anyway? My father donated Ten 
Thousand Dollars towards the erection of that 
college, I was the oldest pupil, in the point of 
attendance there, I deserved it and so would 
I have gotten if, if that Jim Gray had’ent told 
what I had done. So Mr. Gray you have had 
your day, and I will have mine, though what 
it the use of going on in this way, neither is it 
helping me to say Tharpe is an honest fellow, 
and that stuff, he must be gotten out of my 
way, and the question is: How will I do it? 

He will surely tell Nellie what I asked him to 
do and that will put me in a precarious light 
before her. The only thing for me to do is to 
hatch up some tale. It will be very easy to 
make the old lady believe it, getting the girl 
is the thing. Maybe I can get Mrs. Fox" to 
make her believe it. It’s of no use to tell that 


Quaker Jim 


87 


old man anything for lie don’t care whether 
she marries a duke or a tramp. All he thinks 
of is tormenting someone or telling Indian and 
wild cat stories. There is one consolation, 
the old lady is head of the house, if it comes 
to it I can get her influence towards the dis- 
missal of Tliarpe. I will just think of a little 
story in a day or two and pay Mrs. Fox a call.” 
Alien rode on to the Squire's in peace and con- 
tentment, little thinking his main obstacle had 
not arisen. 

Mr. Alten was the sole topic of conversa- 
tion with Mandy, while he, Alten, was plan- 
ning his way to revenge on James Gray, 
Mandy ’s favorite of the two children. “Now 
John it’s jest this a way if Nellie would go wutli 
Mr. Alten she would be looked up ter, an my 
how mad Edith Kirby would be. ’Sides she is 
the purtiest an why should’ent she have him 
for a sweet heart.” “Oh ! That’s it you want 
Nellie to beat Edith’s time.” “Sartinly, she 
thinks kase she’s the Squire’s daughter she 
oughter git ever fellow what come along.” 
“Wa’al what if she does, let her have ’em Nel- 
lie don’t ker a snap.” “That’s jest it, she don’t 
ker nuthin’, I want her ter be up wuth other 
gals an not be runnin’ round wuth common 
folks.” “If Nellie is satisfied, so be I, though 
it looks lack ter me she don’t ker much ’bout 
any fellers.” “Yes she be, she’s a perfect fool 
’bout that Bob.” “I reckon he’s as good as 
she be hain’t he?” “Ye kin never make be 
b'live it.” “Mandy when I was a young chap 
I never let nobody meddle inter my business, 


88 


Quaker Jim 


ner I hain’t agoin’ ter meddle inter hern.” 
“John ye must, she’ll do anything fer ye an 
nuthin’ will she do fer me, ye must tell her 
to go wuth Mr. Alten, he is genteel.” Snort 
braced his chair back against the wall, took 
his hat off, pitched it over on the table and 
said : “I’ll be darned if I do, she kin go wuth 
who she pleases provided he’s a gentleman if 
it be yer Cousin Possum.” This put Mandy 
into a frenzy. “Look here John Fox, we took 
that gal ter raise her an I’m agoin’ ter see she’s 
raised right.” John commenced to sing an old 
time song, something he ahvays did when his 
wife got “a preachin’ spell" as he called it. 
“Do ye think her mammy woulder tolerated her 
doin’ as she pleased?" “Think it will rain ter- 
day?” remarked John, and continued the song. 
“No Sir, she would’enter, neither would her 
dady.” “Them geese oughter be picked,” in- 
terrupted Snort. “He’d a made her know her 
place in double quick time.” “Dinner ’bout 
ready Sarah,” called out Snort to the old darky. 
“An here am I tryin’ ter do my Christian 
dooty.” “A preachin’,” Snort again dryly re- 
marked. “An ye set up here an tell me ye 
won’t do nuthin wuth her.” “The old cow got 
in the yard this mornin’ an chawed yer sheet 
purty nigh up.” “What? Why did’ent yer tell 
me afore? O Lord. I be a ruined womern.” 
“Not quite, cotton hain’t wuth but a nickel 
a yard, less the Quaker riz the price.” “Sarah 
run out yonder an fetch the rest uv that sheet 
in.” “If she does she’ll fetch the cow in.” 
“Did she eat it all?” “No, she wuz’ent very 


Quaker Jim 89 

hungry I reckon, she jest took a bunch often 
it, an what she left over fer dinner I fetched 
in.” “What did ye interrupt me for then, 
when I wuz tellin’ ye what ter do?” “Thought 
it ’bout time fer the collection.” “What’s a 
collection got ter do wuth this?” “Ever good 
sermon is usually follered by one.” “I hain’t 
preachin’ no sermon, I be only tellin’ ye what’s 
yer natural dooty, an ye know it is too. I 
don’t b’live ye want that gal ter go w r uth Mr. 
Alten kase he’s a real gentleman.” “I think 
if ye keep on ye’ll want ter go with him yer- 
self ’fore long.” “That’s the answer I git 
when I’m try in’ ter give good advice.” 

Snort got up from his chair, put on his hat 
and started for the door. “That’s it, go out 
an don't tell what ye air agoin’ ter do.” Snort 
turned around. “Mandy, Nellie is blood kin 
ter me whar she hain’t ter ye. Ye kin stand 
up here an tell what she’s got ter do lack she 
was a slave, more than ye would do ter yer 
own kin. I can’t, it hurts me fer that’s my 
only sister’s child an she’s as dear ter me as 
if she wuz my own, as I tole ye afore she kin 
do as she pleases ’bout her love affairs, an ye 
air nobody else is goin’ ter meddle an let that 
settle it.” Sarah was heard to remark from 
the other room : “May de Lawd bless ole 
Marse.” Snort walked out and left Mandy to 
her wrath. Her husband being gone she 
hastened into the room where Sarah was. 
“Look a here Sarah, what do ye mean by 
savin’ Lord bless John?” “I means jest wdiat 
1 says Misses. Lawd bless Marse John fer 


90 


Quaker Jim 


thinkin’ so much uv Nellie.” “Let me tell 
ye sumpin’ right now, when ye hear me givin’ 
John advice ye hold yer tongue or it won’t be 
good fer ye.” “Yessum.” “When I want 
somebody ter ax a blessin’ for him I’ll send 
fer ’em do ye hear me?” “Yessum.” “From 
this on don’t ye be meddlin’ inter mine an 
John’s affairs, or I’ll make it so hot fer ye, 
ye’ll think ye swallered a pot uv red pep- 
per.” “Look hyar Misses, I’se gettin’ ole an 
have no place to go ef you drive me off, but 
ef I had to go out in de corn field an starb 
to def, you could neber git me to say de 
Lawd oughten to bless Marse John fer bein’ 
a friend to dat po’ little chile.” “Yes ye an 
John has both petted her till she hain’t got no 
sense.” “Dey wuz mouty little pettin’ you 
eber gin her.” “No, an I don't 'tend ter give 
her any either, I want ter make a woman outen 
her, an not a baby.” “She am no baby Misses, 
she am a perfect lady.” “What? She’s jest 
lack a big overgrown child, ye an John has 
made her that a way too. Wa’al I bet ye I 
take some uv it outen her.” “I’ll bet you better 
not look lack you wanter do anything if Marse 
Jim finds it out.” “Ye impedent nigger, don’t 
ye talk ter me that way. What do I ker for 
Jim Fox? I hate him an never wanter put 
eyes on him agin.” “You know Misses he 
tole you when him an you had de trouble 
someday he'd be back.” “I hope he never 
comes back as long as I live.” Mandy said 
this with a shudder for she feared James Fox 
worse than any other living man. She knew 


Quaker Jim 


9i 


if he ever came back her power over Nellie 
was gone, and all of her plans would amount 
to nothing; moreover, she knew James would 
not tolerate her dictation over the Fox home- 
stead. “I don’t think it'll be long Misses,” 
Sarah said “kase Fse had a feelin’ fer de las’ 
yar dat he’ll be hyar soon.” “He’ll never 
come back here no more,” Mandy forced out. 
“Yes he will Misses, he’ll come sartin as you 
lib.” “Don’t be botherin me ’bout him, I 
wushed ye would’ent be a talkin’ ’bout him 
fore me,” Mandy said in a fidget, “Now ye go 
on an git dinner an next time me an John has 
a spat don’t ye put in.” 

Aunt Sarah went out to the kitchen in a 
pretty sour humor. The first thing she did 
was to give Shep a lick with the poker, to at 
least show her authority over him as she had 
none over any of the family. Her next vent 
to wrath was to pick the cat up by the tail 
and hurl it out of the window with full force 
to remind it, the kitchen was no place for 
canines when she was in a bad humor. The 
next important event w^as the burning of 
“Moscow.” Sarah looked on at this great 
disaster with awe, her eyeballs rolled back in 
her head, every muscle in her body quivered, 
her teeth chattered, and her knees knocked 
viciously together at this terrible specatcle, 
she said judgment day had come and Shep 
was the cause of it all. Great drops of per- 
spiration stood out on her forehead as she be- 
held the fire spreading over the entire of 
“Moscow,” and no one to help check the 



92 


Quaker Jim 


flames, save her. After much bewilderment 
and suffering, Sarah bravely dashed a bucket 
of water on the flames with one hand and ex- 
tinguished them. But understand us we do 
not mean to say that Sarah was laboring un- 
der the hallucination that she was a partici- 
pant of the memorial fire in which Napoleon 
attended with his men of war. No, the Mos- 
cow we have reference to, was an old celluloid 
ring with the name “Moscow” inscribed on the 
inside, that was given her by a sweet heart 
years before. Sarah in her excitement 

picked up a hot coal to throw at Shep who 
refused to go out at the invitation of the 
poker. The coal came in contact with 
the ring which immediately ignited and be- 
gan to spurt forth fire all over Sarah’s hand. 
When she had put out the fire, she looked 
where “Moscow” had so long rested but alas, 
the once great “Moscow” was destroyed. All 
that could be seen of the remains was a much 
burnt place where “Moscow” laid. So fierce 
were the flames you could see puffed blisters 
as far as the peninsula thumb. Sarah tied her 
hand up with a cloth, saturated with turpen- 
tine, and took good care of what she threw 
at Shep thereafter. The loss of the ring was 
for a while a great blow to Sarah, till Nellie 
replaced it with a neat gold one which im- 
mensely pleased her, though “Moscow” had a 
warm spot in her heart which never left. 

After dinner Mandy took her seat on the 
porch to get some fresh air. She said: “The 
heat wuz ’bout ready ter stifle her, that an 


93 


Quaker Jim 

stubborn people, she had ter contend wuth.” 
It so happened she sat down on the edge 
of the porch close to some honeysuckle vines 
that twined around the columns. She had’ent 
been sitting there long before a gentle breeze 
made her eyelids become heavy and she 
dropped into a half slumber. Teebe, whom 
we mentioned before as being much inter- 
ested in flowers, was at his usual afternoon 
occupation of watering them. Not noticing 
Mandy, he with sprinkling can in hand was 
backing from column to column watering his 
much beloved honeysuckles, and so much was 
he absorbed in his favorite work that he 
sprinkled Mandy from head to foot before 
realizing what he had done. The water 
touching Mandy ’s face awakened her with a 
jump. “What der ye mean, ye silly critter 
by besmearin’ me wuth water?” Teebe came 
out of his dream with great rapidity. “I 
did’ent see ye settin’ thar Mandy.” “Air ye 
blind?” “Ye looked lack a honeysuckle ter 
me.” “I look lack a honeysuckle?” “Ye see 
ye wuz settin’ so close ter the vine I thought 
ye wuz a part uv it.” “Hain’t ye ever agoin’ 
ter learn any sense as long as ye live?” “Not 
as long as ye an ole Sarah’s here, I won’t.” 
“Don’t ye talk ter me that way.” “Say ye 
hain’t talkin’ ter Snort or Sarah when ye talk 
ter me, now ye shet up er I’ll throw the whole 
can full on ye, an give ye sumpin’ ter talk fer.” 
Mandy knew well he would do it, if she 
tempted him too much. She thought it wise 
to hold her peace. Teebe continued, “Ye give 


f. 




y 


94 Quaker Jim 

everybody fits ’round here this mornin’, now 
cause I happened ter throw a little water on 
ye, ye want ter show off, I’ll fool ye though if 
ye want ter start anything with me. I cooled 
ye off a little, ’sides ye had no business settin’ 
so close ter them vines, ye mout kill ’em.” 
Just then Nellie came out on the porch. 
“What is the matter Uncle Teebe?” she 
asked. “Nuthin’ I jest throwed a little water 
on Mandy an she wants ter jump on me ’bout 
it.” “Oh, she does’ent mean anything by that 
Uncle Teebe, she means you must not spoil 
her new dress.” “Why don’t she say what 
she means, an not ax me if I’s crazy an got 
no sense? Yes I got sense an moren she’s got 
ter boot.” “Of course you are smart Uncle 
Teebe, and you did’ent go to do that did 
you?” “No but if she don’t let me alone, I’ll 
go ter do it.’’ Mandy went in to change her 
dress for a dry one, and Nellie helped Teebe 
water his flowers for he always afforded her 
much pleasure with his childish simplicity. 
“Nellie do ye ever intend ter git married?” 
“Some day, perhaps, Uncle Teebe, why?” 
“Ye hain’t as long as 1 live air ye?” “Don’t 
you want me to marry?” “No Nellie it 
would’ent seem lack home if ye wuz gone.” 
“It would'ent?” “No, don’t ye know when ye 
wuz gone ter school it seemed lack it wuz the 
longest time I ever saw, I told Snort if he 
did’ent bring ye back I wuz agoin’ ter run 
off ter the school where }^e wuz an stay thar.” 
“You did?” “Yes, air ye agoin’ back any 
more Nellie?” “No, Uncle Teebe I have 


Quaker Jim 


95 


graduated.” “What’s that?” “One who has 
passed the highest branches in the school.” 
“Do they haf ter pass branches at the school?” 
“Yes, Uncle Teebe.” “How many did ye pass 
over?” “About twelve.” “An did’ent git yer 
feet wet in not one uv ’em.” It made Nellie 
laugh outright to hear her old Uncle Teebe 
ask a question like that. “Uncle Teebe I 
don’t mean branches of water I mean courses 
of study.” “What’s that?” “Books you must 
learn and get into your brain so you know 
the different subjects by heart.” “Ye haf ter 
. git twelve books in yer heart?” “Yes, I did 
and some schools teach more courses.” “How 
many hearts have ye got Nellie?” “Only one.” 
“It must be a mouty big one ter git twelve 
books in it. I’m sure I could’ent git a half a 
one in mine.” “You don’t get the book it- 
self into your heart, Uncle Teebe, what I 
mean is, you must learn what the books treat 
of so you will know what is in them without 
looking.” “What did ye learn outen ’em?” 
“I learned something of Grammar,” “Gram- 
ma? Yer Grandmer’s dead long ago honey.” 
“I said Grammar. That teaches you Uncle 
Teebe to speak well.” “Ye could speak as 
good as anybody long ’fore ye went ter 
school.” “It teaches you Uncle Teebe, to use 
good words.” “Oh! what else did ye learn?” 
“I studied Algebra, Logic, History, Litera- 
ture, and Philosophy ; when I was a little girl 
and went to school here, I learned Arithme- 
tic, Spelling, Reading, Geography and other 
branches taught in the lower classes.” 


9 6 


Quaker Jim 


“What’s Gogerfy?” “Geography teaches you 
of the different parts of the world, it tells 
you of all the rivers, lakes, mountains, deserts, 
etc., for instance I want to find the Desert 
Sahara, I can look in the Geography and it 
will show me where it is." “If ye wanter find 
Sarah ye don’t hafter look in that book, ye 
kin go in the kitchen an find her with her hand 
tied up in terpentine an cotton, kase she 
lacked ter burnt it off this mornink” “You 
don’t understand much about these books do 
you Uncle Teebe?” “No, Nellie I reckon they 
wuz made for gals, they never had ’em things 
when I wuz a boy.” “O, yes they did, you 
never had the chance to go to school.” “I 
went three months onct, an the onlv book 
they had was a speller an we all set on a log 
that run frum one end uv the room ter tother, 
with no floor or nuthin’ else, two uv ’em 
would study outen it for a while then pass it 
ter the next tAvo till it got down ter the end 
uv the log then he’d hear the lesson, that’s the 
only branch we had ’ceptin the branch uv a 
tree limb he had layin’ on his table, so if we 
missed a word we got a thrashin’.” “Did he 
ever whip you Uncle Teebe.” “Oh yes, some 
times three times a day, kase I never could 
learn nuthin’.” “Did the other boys get 
any?” “Yes an gals too, I got more than any 
uv ’em though, for Possum Boone’s dady 
uster chaw terbacker an spit on my feet, then 
the ole teacher would Avliup me fer havin’ 
dirty feet.” “Why did’ent you tell on him?” 
“I did but that teacher did’ent notice what I 


Quaker Jim 


97 


said. I got even with Possum’s dady though.” 
“What did you do?" “I got one uv ’em little 
green snakes an when he got ter studyin’ outen 
that speller, I jest pitched the snake on the 
book.” "I'll bet that scared him did’ent it?” 
"Yes he jumped up an commenced ter holler 
an yell an ye coulder hear’n him a mile. The 
ole teacher come ru linin’ down ter see what 
wuz the matter an the little ole snake run 
up his breeches, he started ter jump and 
dance an finally laid down an rolled around 
lack a horse till he killed the snake, he used 
a cuss word too.” “He did?” “Yes, an atter 
he got the snake out uv his breeches, he gave 
Boone a thrashin’ fer bringin’ it in thar an 
then said we all better pray a little ter drive 
out the evil spirits. I don’t know what evil 
spirits be, but if that teacher had any in him, 
he rolled ’em out tryin’ ter kill that snake.” 
“Did you ever tell Mr. Boone you did it?” 
“No, I’m too smart for that, they axed me a 
heap uv times but I never told ’em.” Nellie 
and Teebe were called in to supper which put 
an end to the conversation. Teebe, when 
meal time came had no time to spare for any- 
thing, if he was in the middle of a conver- 
sation and dinner or supper was announced, 
he would break right off and leave his hearers 
to find the rest out as best they could. 

It was during this meal Mr. Alten was an- 
nounced, he presented his card by Sarah who 
happened to be standing on the porch when 
he came. Sarah walked into the dining room, 
holding the card far out from her body with 


98 Quaker Jim 

both hands, as if she thought it may snap her. 
Mandy took the card and after glancing over 
it, she ordered Sarah to bring her glasses. 
Adjusting them to her nose, she carefully 
scanned the contents, told Sarah to tell the 
man she “wanted no clocks fixed,” that day. 
“Dat’s Alten.” “What? Air ye shore?” 
“Yessum, he’s settin’ out dar on his boss, go 
out an look at him.” “Here Nellie tell what 
this kard has ter say.” Nellie took the card 
which read in many curved hieroglyphics, Mr. 

Henry Alten, Louisiana. “My glasses air 

spected smartly an I could’ent quite make it 
out.” Snort chuckled while Nellie laughed 
inwardly. Mandy could read only common 
printed matter and that vaguely, although she 
tried to make believe she could read the most 
difficult hand writing. It not being the cus- 
tom in the country for people to present cards, 
except peddlers or tinkers, for advertising 
purposes, Mandy naturally thought it the card 
of a clock fixer. After she found out it was 
in reality Alten she jumped up from the table 
and wanted to know if it would be etiquette 
(she pronounced it et-er-quit) to ask him to 
supper after they sat down. Snort informed 
her he “war’ent agoin’ ter quit till he got his 
stomach plum full uv eatin’, when he got 
through they’d all hafter quit for they 
would’ent be any left fer strangers.” Mandy 
went to the door and invited Mr. Alten in, she 
told him about asking her husband of the eti- 
quette and the answer he gave her. Alten 
thanked her and said he had just been to sup- 


Quaker Jim 


99 


per. “All right then Mr. Alten ye jest set 
right down here, an I'll tell Nellie ter fix up 
a bit.” She started from the room. “Why 
Mrs. Fox, I really had no engagement with 
Miss Nellie this evening, I came over because 
I was a little lonesome. You know Miss 
Edith has gone out and the Squire is not 
feeling well, so I thought I would take a ride 
over.” “That’s all right Mr. Alten, Nellie’ll 
be glad ter see ye anyhow.” “Really Mrs. 
Fox my purpose was to see you a little while 
if you have the time to spare. I have some- 
thing to tell you, perhaps you would like to 
know.” “Yes, yes, Mr. Alten take a cheer, 
I’ll be back in a minute.” “I thank you very 
much Mrs. Fox.” Silly old woman, thought 
Alten, she will fall right into my trap, Mr. 
Tharpe will have to go away from here to find 
work,, and likely I will not be troubled with 
him any more. Snort was sent in to enter- 
tain the visitor during Mandy’s absence, this 
he did in an amusing manner to Alten. “Ye 
come frum down South did’ent ye?” “Yes, 
sir.” “Place much ’fested with injuns?” “No, 
they are farther on in the territory.” “Wild 
cats?” “No, there are a few in the forests.” 
“Did yer ever see one uv ’em critters?” “Not 
at large, I have seen them in manageries.” 
“Wa’al let me tell yer young man don’t never 
let one git his clutches on ye, ye’ll think four 
million settin’ hens are a tryin’ ter scratch a 
nest in ye.” “I hope T will never have the 
misfortune to fall into the claws of one.” “I 
did. I run inter a den uv ’em onct.” “What 


100 


Quaker Jim 


did you do?” “Wa’al I’ll tell ye young man 
though it makes the cold scringes run down 
my back ter do it. I wuz up in the mountains 
when I wuz smart uv a young chap, cuttin’ 
trees fer saw logs, when 1 hears sumpin’ cry- 
in’ lack a baby. What could it be? thinks 
I to myself. Sez I, I’ll go up an see, so ups 
I go an the sound kept gettin’ a little nearer, 
I looks up in the top uv a hickory tree an thar 
uz four uv ’em spittin’ an frownin’ ’round lack 
Possum Boone at a county court. They 
seemed ter have a special wush fer me ter 
start up that tree, but I tell yer, young man. 
yer Uncle Snort hain’t dim that tree yit. Not 
kase I'se scared uv ’em, oh, no, I jest 
would’ent do ’em the good ter satisfy their 
’sires.” “What did you do Mr. Fox?” “What 
did I do? I jest kept a mewowen so did they, 
every onct in a while they’d spit and so would 
I. I done that ter git ’em mad, tereckly the 
old he cat looked at his wife or mate, or what 
ever it wuz an their eyes commenced ter shine 
like balls uv fire. I reckon one thought 
tuther wuz tryin’ ter make fun uv him fer 
both uv their tails riz up an some how in 
the scrimage one tetched tuther an they 
looked ’round lack snakes in the middle uv 
March. One fell on one side of the limb an 
tuther on tuther. Wa’al uv all the scratchin’ 
an tighten ye ever saw in yer born days wuz 
right thar, nuther would let loose so they had 
it out twixt ’em with none ter watch it but 
me an tuther two wild cats. They fit that 
way fer two hours an thirteen minutes an 


Quaker Jim 


ioi 


finally one coutch tuther in the throat an that 
a away they died. It scared one uv the others 
so bad, he lost his grip an down he come, I 
goes up an gathers him by the collar an 
strangles him ter death. I took their hides 
off an sold ’em fer two dollars a piece, that 
wuz six dollars an not a bad days work 
nuther.” “You did’ent tell me what became 
of the fourth one.” “Oh yes, that poor feller 
got so scared he jumped against the trunk 
uv the tree and killed hisself when he saw 
me stranglin’ the day lights outen his pard- 
ner.” “I am very glad I never had such ter- 
rible experiences.” “That’s nothin’ young 
man, I could tell ye uv a hundred worse things 
than that, but here comes Mandy so I guess 
I’ll haf ter be goin’.” 

Mandy came back into the room dressed in 
her best garments and paint smeared on her 
face from the top of her forehead to the neck 
of her dress. Alten complimented her highly 
on her good taste in dressing and assured 
her she was by far the most stylish women he 
had seen since his arrival there. If we could 
describe the dress it would be a source of 
pleasure, it had so many tucks 2nd pleats, that 
would we try we feel we would misrepresent 
its name. In fact we think no one is ac- 
quainted with this mode of dress making but 
Mandy and it must have been imparted to her 
by one of the gods of Ancient Greece, who 
may have arose to give Mandy alone this in- 
formation. Mandy took her seat close to Al- 
ten and the conversation began at once. 


102 


Quaker Jim 


“You see Mrs. Fox, I came over to tell you 
something perhaps you did’ent know and of 
course if you wish, I will only be too glad to 
inform you.” “Yes, jest so, go ahead an let 
me hear all ’bout it.” “If you think you can’t 
bear up under it I won’t tell you.” “Do ye 
think it’ll make me nervous?” “I can’t say, as 
to that, it may and it may not.” “Did any 
accident happen ter anybody?” “No, it is a 
little something that is happening in your im- 
mediate family and I don’t think the man in 
it is acting a gentleman.” “What do ye mean 
Mr. Alten?” “It is this, your overseer is in 
love or pretends to be in love with your 
Niece.” “Jes’ so.” “I met him the other day 
and he tried to persuade me into staying away 
from here.” “Jes’ so.” “I told him I would 
not, so he told me he would get Miss Nellie, 
it mattered not what it cost.” “Jes’ so.” 
“Now you can see plainly his object Mrs. Fox 
he is after her money, I really don’t think he 
cares for her.” “Jes’ so, an if he did he 
could’ent git her fer I’ve sot my foot down on 
it.” “You govern Nellie.” “Yes, Mr. Alten.” 
“I have taken quite a liking to you Mrs. Fox, 
and I tell you this because I think you wish to 
act by Nellie as her mother would.” “Jes’ 
so.” “I think she likes this fellow and my 
advice, if I may offer it, is to keep her away 
from him. I really think Mrs. Fox your over- 
seer is a dishonest man.” “Jes’ so, Mr. Alten, 
an I’ve been preachin’ it fer two year, but 
Nellie an John don’t pay no ’tention ter me.” 
“I would’ent be surprised Mrs. Fox, if he ain’t 


Quaker Jim 


103 


planning a scheme right now to accomplish his 
end.” “Jes’ so.” “He is a pretty sharp fellow 
and I think he will commence a little at a 
time.” “How do ye think he’ll do it?” “I 
think he will start this way : He knows you 

and Mr. Fox are getting old and have no pro- 
tection, you may commence to miss a little 
article here and there, it will grow more and 
more until finally some of your most valu- 
able things are taken or perhaps something 
burned, you will naturally become alarmed 
and then he thinks you will consent to the 
marriage to have him here at night for protec- 
tion, don’t you see?” “Jes’ so, I would’ent 
put it past him ter do anything ’round here, 
an the fust thing he takes, I'm agoin’ ter make 
John oust him.” “I would ask you to say 
nothing of what I said to you, Mrs. Fox un- 
til you really catch him then if your husband 
don’t believe you, send for me and I will come 
over and vindicate you.” “I won’t say a word 
Mr. Alten till I miss sumpin’ then I’ll send fer 
ye.” “I thank you Mrs. Fox for your kind- 
ness towards me, I feel that I have found a 
woman who will listen to the truth.” “Any- 
thing ye tell me Mr. Alten, I b’live kase ye 
air a gentleman.” “I am quite sure that this 
man don’t love Nellie half as much as I do, 
and that’s what makes me feel for her so 
tenderly.” “I am glad ter hear ye think so 
much uv Nellie an I know she’ll think smartly 
uv ye when we let her know what this feller 
really be.” 

Alten started to leave, Mandy insisted on 


104 


Quaker Jim 


/ 


his staying a while longer, that she would 
have Nellie come in the room. “No indeed, 
Mrs. Fox, I would’ent think of having her go 
to the trouble now. It is nine o’clock and as 
much as I would like to see her I must be 
going.” He went his way with the full con- 
fidence of Bob’s dismissal, while Mandy re- 
turned to the sitting room hoping Bob would 
take an early opportunity to do something 
that would throw him into disfavor with 
Nellie, Mandy knowing how a dishonest act 
disgusted her. Poor Mandy blinded by her 
foolish pride, could not see the spirit of jeal- 
ousy that existed in Alten. When Alten said 
it was his love for Nellie that prompted him 
in telling her, had she not been so embit- 
tered against Bob, she would have seen his 
true purpose and if she had been a loyal 
guardian to her Niece, she would have at least 
remained neutral and let Nellie Gray take her 
choice instead of encouraging Alten and help- 
ing to take the character of one who had been 
an instrument in the making of her Niece, for 
Bob Tharpe had all of his life been a com- 
panion of hers, and while Nellie was born of 
one of the most upright families in Kentucky, 
still after the death of ner parents how easily 
was it not to lead her from the path of truth 
and honesty into corruption and disgrace, and 
we may say it was Bob Tharpe’s continual acts 
of gentility, from childhood to the present, 
that bore materially towards encouraging Nel- 
lie on to that respect and honor which she 
now so justly holds. 


Quaker Jim 


105 


CHAPTER VI. 

Nellie knew there was something wrong in 
Alten’s visit. Why was’ent she asked to en- 
ter the room as she had been before ? What 
could it mean? Was Mr. Alten insulted? 
Plad she done anything to hurt his feelings? 
A chill ran through her when she thought of 
the Quaker’s remark : “Beware of that man.” 

“Would it be wise to ask her Aunt his mis- 
sion? No, if it concerns me I will hear it to- 
morrow, if not, it would be of no use to ask 
for I would get no information.” Nellie tossed 
and tumbled that night in her bed, thinking of 
what business Alten had with her Aunt. Next 
morning she awoke earlier than usual with a 
dull headache. She thought, perhaps, if she 
could eet Aunt Sarah to make her some hot 

o 

coffee, she would be benefited. As she was 
going down the stairs a thought passed 
through her mind, nor could she dispel it. 
It would be well for you to see the Quaker, 
perhaps, he could give you some valuable in- 
formation, don’t put it off, go to-day. Nellie 
passed through the hall and glanced at the 
old grandfather clock that had tolled the hours 
by for over a hundred years. It was just 
half-past four, she crossed the passage into 
the kitchen. “Law bless my soul honey what 


106 Quaker Jim 

you doin’ up hyar dis time o’mornin’?” “I 
have such a headache Aunt Sarah I came 
down to get you to make me some hot coffee.” 
“Bless yo ! little heart, I’ll make it right away, 
redoubling her energy, nor was it long be- 
fore she had a nice cup of steaming coffee that 
soon relieved Nellie’s head and gave back the 
rosy color that belonged to her dimpled cheeks. 
“What makes yo’ head ache honey, is you 
sick?” “No, I did’ent sleep well last night, I 
was worried.” “What was you worried ’bout 
honey?” “I don’t know Auntie, Aunt Mandy 
acted so peculiarly when Mr. Alten came last 
night, she went into the parlor and never gave 
an inkling of his mission.” “Did’ent you go 
in?” “No, she never asked me.” “Don’t you 
worry ’bout dat honey let dat ole crazy man 
go, you don't ker fo’ him no how.” “I am not 
worried about that I would be pleased if he 
never came to see me, I fear there is some- 
thing wrong.” “Fixin’ a scheme to oust 
Marse Bob dats what.” “What makes you 
think that?” “Kays dat ole man come ’roun’ 
hyar 'bout a wek ago one mornin’, when I 
wuz down at de stable feedin’ de chickens, an 
axed me whar Marse Bob wuz.” “What did 
he want?” “I don’t know. I axed him an he 
said, *j es ' a little business that wuz’ent nothin’ 
to me’.” “Where was Bob, did he find him?” 
“Bob wuz over to de Quakers. I don’no 
whether he found him or not, I spects he did 
kase he went dat ’rection, an I knows Marse 
Bob wuz pawahful late gittin’ home.” “I 
don’t know what he could have wanted with 


Quaker Jim 


107 


Bob.” “I know, least its my ’spectins, but 
you mus’ent tell nobody. Ole Misses an him 
ar fixin’ it up fer him to git Marse Bob’s job 
dats what it is, you can’t fool yo’ ole Aunt 
Sarah.” “He does’ent want Bob’s position 
with his wealth?” “No, he wants you honey, 
an dats de way he’s goin’ to try an git you.” 
“He does’ent care fer me Aunt Sarah.” “Yes 
he do honey, kays I hearn ole Misses say so.” 
“When?” “Las night dats when, I hearn her 
tell old Marse.” “What did Uncle John say?” 
“He tole her if you loved him it wuz all right 
but there be no forcin’ you to hab anybody. 
He axed her what Alten wanted hyar, an she 
would’ent tell him ’ceptin’ to say he’d find out 
in a short time what a friend Alten wuz to us all 
an ole Marse jes’ laughed an said de only frien’ 
he had wuz a dollar an Possum when he 
(Snort) had a quart of whiskey.” “I wish 
you would have told me sooner about Alten 
wanting to see Bob Aunt Sarah?” “I tried 
a dozen times honey, but neber got de chance. 
I thought Marse Bob done tole you.” “No, I 
hav’ent seen Bob.” “Honey whatever you do 
don’t marry dat ole man fo' it’ll break yo’ 
poo’ ole Black Mammy’s heart.” “Don’t have 
a fear Aunt Sarah about me marrying Mr. 
Alten, I never thought of such a thing.” “Let 
ole Misses say what she wanter you don’t haf 
to do what she says.” The poor old darky 
wiped a tear from her eye for she had great 
fears of Mandy’s forcing the marriage. After 
learning what Sarah told, Nellie made up her 
mind she would go to see the Quaker that 


io8 Quaker Jim 

morning, and in the meantime try to see Bob. 

Mandy and Snort came into breakfast, but 
not a word was said by either of the hap- 
penings of the evening previous. Snort com- 
mented on the fine weather they were having 
and said it reminded him of his promise to 
take Nellie over to Bertha’s. “Do ye wanter 
go Nellie?” “I thought I would take a walk 
down to the Quaker’s this morning Uncle 
John.” “What ye agoin’ ter do down thar?” 
“I just wanted to see him that’s all, he is such 
a dear old fellow, I can’t help but like him.” 
“Sorter settin’ ter him I reckon. I tole ye 
Mandy she wuz arter him.” Mandy made no 
comment. “Every time I say I like a man, 
Uncle John you accuse me of being in love 
with him. If you don’t quit tormenting me 
about boys I am going to be angry with you.” 
A little flush came to her face which made 
Snort think she meant it. “Don’t pay no Men- 
tion ter yer Uncle Snort honey, I did’ent mean 
nuthin’. Go ahead ter see the Quaker if ye 
wanter, he’s a fine feller if anyone kin under- 
stan’ his talk.” “I did’ent mean that Uncle 
John, I was only jesting.” “Only which?” 
“Jesting, that is I meant it in fun.” “Oh ! I 
understan’ now. Don’t use them bis: words 
afore me Nellie, kase that wuz’ent in our 
speller less it wuz tore out ’fore I started ter 
school. It’s hard tellin’ which uv ye gits me 
cornered up the most with them words, ye or 
Bob.” At the mention of Bob’s name Mandy 
turned her mouth up in scorn. It was not no- 
ticed by Snort, but bv Nellie it was, and it 


Quaker Jim 


109 


sent a sad feeling through her heart to have 
the one she loved sneered at. “I will tell 
Bob, Uncle Snort, and we will try arrange 
it so we won’t use those words.” “I wushed 
ye could, fer a man that has tomahawked In- 
juns an scalped wild cats never had much time 
ter study what big words mean, when a lit- 
tle feller will answer the same jest as well. 
I tell ye what ye kin do Nellie, if ye wanter. 
Ye kin go over ter the Quaker’s, I’ll hitch up 
Gray Eagle, drive on ter Bertha’s an ye kin 
come by arter while. What ye say?” “All 
right, Uncle John, are you going to take Aunt 
Mandy?” “If she wants ter go.” “I’ll have 
too much ter do ’roun’ here ter think uv wast- 
in’ time over thar.” “Stay at home then, we 
kin git along without ye,” said Snort. “I know 
that very well wuthout ye tellin’ me.” “If ye 
say so, I'll go over an git Alten an the Squire 
ter come over while we air gone?” “Never 
ye mind ’bout Mr. Alten, I reckon when he 
wants ter come, he kin git here.” “Yes, 
’specially ’bout meal time.” “I know others 
stopped here fer meals oftener than he did.” 
“Possum Boone fer one,” said Snort. “Sides,” 
continued Mandy, “Mr. Alten has never sot 
his feet ter this table y it. ” “No but if ye’d 
bring that ‘eat-er-quit’ inter force, I reckon 
he’d be here three times a day.” Mandy flew 
out of the room in a rage, while Snort sat 
there and chuckled. “Aren’t you ashamed to 
make fun of a stranger in that manner, Uncle 
John?” “It gits the ole lady buzzin’ ter say 
sumpin’ ’bout that er feller, an I’ll bet my hat 


no 


Quaker Jim 


he kin eat as bigger meal an give as solermner 
blessin’ afterwards as Possum kin at thrashin’ 
time.” “Don’t you like to see one eat heart- 
ily?” “Yes but I hate ter see ’em lack a 
camel store it away fer another time.” “Don’t 
torment Auntie about Mr. Alten, she thinks 
he is a real gentleman and I hope he is ; you 
know how she is, Uncle John, when she takes 
a liking to any one, she thinks they are per- 
fect till they do some little thing to offend 
her, then she will have nothing to do with 
them.” “I jest can’t help it Nellie, she flies up 
in sich a spell that she ’minds me uv a settin’ 
hen when a hawk comes aroun’.” “It is’ent 
right to torment her Uncle John, because she 
loses her temper so quickly.” “Wa’al we 
won’t pester her fer a while now, we’ll let her 
feathers set a little.” 

Nellie dressed after breakfast and walked 
down the road to the Quaker’s, she never met 
a soul on the way, not even Possum, who was 
a traveler of this same thoroughfare not less 
that a half dozen times a day. She went in- 
to the store and found the Quaker alone, 
straightening up his stock. “Good morning to 
thee my child, what brings thee out so early?” 
“I thought I would take a walk Mr. Pent.” 
“It’s a nne morning for walking, won’t thee 
have a seat, perhaps thee are tired from such a 
long ramble?” “It is’ent far, I have walked 
it many times.” “How are thy people? I 
hav’ent seen them for quite a while.” “They 
are all feeling well, I thank you.” “And Bob? 
“He is all right. How have you been Mr. 


Quaker Jim 


hi 


Pent?” “I have had the blues a little my 
child because thee did’ent come to see me.” 
“I am very sorry, I came just as soon as I 
could.” “IPs all right child, thee hast done 
thy best I know, I have some news for thee, 
if thee wilt be seated for a while, and no one 
comes in to interrupt us, I will gladly impart 
it to thee.” The Ouaker walked from behind 
the counter and offered Nellie a chair which 
she accepted, and he seated himself beside her. 
“What good-news have you for me Mr. Pent?” 
Nellie suspecting all the time what it was. “I 
did not say ‘good news’ child rather it may be 
sad news to thee.” “A girl is always anxious 
to hear it, good or bad, you know.” “That I 
know well child.” The Quaker told Nellie of 
Alten’s meeting Bob, what took place between 
them and the result in every manner just as 
he heard it. When he had finished, he said: 
“Now child what dost thee think of it?” “Pie 
told Bob he could never get me without his 
consent?” “He did indeed, child.” “Poor fel- 
fow, he imagines Aunt Mandy has sole juris- 
diction over me, in that he is mistaken, while 
I would like to obey her in every respect, I 
think she has nothing to do with me in select- 
ing the man of my choice so long as he is a 
gentleman, I will add, if Mr. Alten thinks he 
can break Bob’s and my affection by these 
tactics he is sadly wrong.” “I like to hear 
thee speak in that manner, my child. Don’t 
let anyone interfere with thee in thy love 
affairs. Thee hast tole me thee loves Bob, 
if I were thee, I would’ent let anyone stand 


II 2 



between me and him.” “What did he mean, 
Mr. Pent, when he told Bob to stay away un- 
til he carried out his object?” What did he 
mean? The Quaker knew, but must he tell 
now, if he did it may spoil the chance to check 
his sister-in-law’s pride. It must go a little 
farther, and well did he know it would take 
more than had already been done to unite the 
lovers and restore them in the good favor of 
Mandy. He also knew that though he would 
have to tell a few falsehoods now, his Niece 
would forgive him for all of this, when she 
had seen how hard he had worked for the 
benefit of her happiness. Instead of telling 
Nellie Alten’s real object, he said: “I think 

child he meant to get thee and Bob estranged, 
then he could easily win thy love and conquer 
over Bob by a little strategy.” “Did Bob 
think as you?” “No, he thought Alten had 
another object in view and he told him he re- 
fused to assist in anything that would hurt 
thee in the least.” “If I did my duty towards 
Mr. Alten I would refuse to let him call on 
me any longer. I only do it to please Aunty 
Mandy for she is wrapped up heart and soul 
in him.” “Bob is not offended with thee child, 
he understands thy situation, and if it pleases 
thy Aunt let him call, I will assure thee he 
will do thee no harm for 1 am thy friend, and 
I am thy lover's friend.” “Plow kind of you 
Mr. Pent, to take such an interest in me. I am 
sure I will always be grateful to you for the 
fatherly way you act towards me, and some 
day I hope to see you highly honored and re- 


Quaker Jim 


113 

warded for your benevolence.” “My child, 
honors I seek not, for rewards I care not, 
there is one object I am striving for and when 
that is secured I will have all the honor and 
reward I desire in this world. Thee will see 
it, so will thy friend Bob, for the present ask 
me not what it is but wait for a little wdiile 
and thee will see it all/’ “Mr. Pent you re- 
mind me so much of Uncle James.” “Did thee 
like thy Uncle?” “I was devoted to him and 
what would I give to see him now.” “Thee 
may have the happiness to see him before 
long.” “I sincerely hope so. He told Auntie 
when he left, some day he would return when 
she least expected him and then the pride 
must go and she must be Mandy of old, not 
the haughty woman she now is.” “Thy Aunt 
was not always this way?” No Sir, Uncle 
James said when she was young, she was one 
of the finest women in the country, though I 
don’t remember it for I never seen her any 
way but like she is now.” “What could of 
caused such a change?” “I don’t know she 
was a very poor girl before her marriage, 
probably the change of sharing Uncle John’s 
wealth was the cause.” “More than likely, 
child, but thy Aunt will get all right bye 
and bye and thy Uncle will return.” “How r 
brightly you take things, Mr. Pent, I wish I 
could be that way.” “It is no use to get 
fretted over trouble, take things as easily as 
thee can, the hardest obstacles can easily be 
overcome.” 

Snort drove up in front of the Quaker’s, 


Quaker Jim 


114 

hitched Gray Eagle, which was entirely un- 
necessary, and walked into the store. “Good 
morning to thee Mr. Fox.” “High Quaker.” 
“Why Uncle John what brought you here, I 
thought you were going to Bertha’s from 
home.” “I thought the walk mout be a little 
too fer, fer ye Nellie.” “See what a dear 
Uncle I have Mr. Pent.” “I do indeed, he is 
very careful of thee.” “Hain't haf as kerful 
as the dude frum ‘Dixie’ ’bout -her.” “Not?” 
“No indeed he’s over thar three er four times 
a week an would stay altergether ef it war’ent 
fer me.” “That’s nice of him,” said the 
Quaker. “I wushed he’d take her, I'm sorter 
gitten tired uv keepin’ her anyway,” said 
Snort, with a wink to the Quaker. “If I 
would get married you would 'ent let me leave 
home Uncle John.” “Good gracious alive gal, 
I’d be so glad I’d give a big dance.” “If I 
get married you will give a dance?” “Yes in- 
deed an invite everybody in the neighbor- 
hood.” “You heard what he said Mr. Pent?” 
“I heard it, and make him carry out his promise 
child.” “She must carry out hern fust, but I 
don’t think she'll ever be able ter fill her part 
uv the contract.” “I may surprise you before 
long Uncle John.” “No danger, I did think 
ye mout git Bob, sence that fence rail come up 
here ye been arter him an I don’t think Bob’ll 
have ye now.” “I don't think she can get 
anyone either,” said the Quaker. “And I don’t 
think I can myself,” Nellie said, with a sly wink 
to the Quaker. “I reckon ef ye all think the 
same thar’s no more room fer arguin’, I’ll jest 


1 


Quaker Jim 


i 15 

haf ter keep her I reckon, though when she 
commences ter git on towards forty she’ll be 
as cranky as a wild Injun.” “I don’t believe 
he means that Mr. Pent.” “I think not,” said 
the Quaker. Snort had a hearty laugh at his 
Niece’s expense and they proceeded on to 
Bertha’s. Much to their surprise they found 
the Squire and Possum seated in the parlor 
wrapped up in politics. “Hello, there is 
Snawt and Nellie, how are you anyhow?” 
“Feelin’ sorter dry Squire, how be ye Pos- 
sum?” “Kinder in the same fix Snort.” 
“How is Miss Nellie?” “I feel very well, 
thank you Squire.” Bertha told the three 
gentlemen to enjoy themselves while she and 
Nellie prepared dinner. Bertha was not 
blessed with the means to have a cook nor did 
she care, she knew Nellie was always de- 
lighted to get to help her for Bertha showed 
her a good many things about cooking, 
something she enjoyed immensely as she 
never was permitted to cook at home. The 
Squire, Snort and Possum proceeded to argue 
politics, it was the chief topic, in two weeks 
the election was to be held and the Squire 
was one of the candidates for re-election. He 
had strong opposition this time in Bill Pearce, 
the man who sold the Quaker his store. Bill 
had a great following in the district, likewise 
did the Squire, and everybody was looking for 
a heated and close election. Bill Pearce main- 
tained to the principles of the Republican 
party, while the Squire was an avowed Demo- 
crat. The speeches of each candidate was any- 


ii6 


Quaker Jim 


thing but complimentary to the other. The 
Squire relied on his past records while Bill’s 
reliance was upon the misdeeds of his opponent 
and his trust in his friends. “How’s things 
lookin’ towards the election Squire?” “Well, 
Snawt, I think I may have a pretty hawd race 
this time but I’m agoing to win Suh.” “Think 
so?” “Yes, I think I’ll win on my merits.” 
“Don’t know ’bout that Squire, I think ye got 
a mouty strong man opposin’ ye.” “That’s 
jest what I tole him.” “I belief myself, he is 
a powahful man in this community but I be- 
lieve I’m the strongah.” “Thar’s a few more 
’Publicans in this district than Democrats 
Squire.” “Where are they Snawt?” “Why, 
look all up aroun’ the north uv the district, 
ever one uv ’em districts went ’Publican last 
’lection.” “I spoke along up there last week 
and evah one of them say they are for me 
Suh.” “They’ll tell ye that,” said Possum, 
*an I kin take five gallons uv moonshine up 
thar an change the last one uv ’em.” “That’s 
what ye kin do Possum,” said Snort, “women 
an all.” “Well I can send as much liquah 
ther as Bill Pearce and it’ll taste just as good.” 
“Bill’s got ’bout twenty-five gallons for up 
thar Squire,” Snort said winking to Possum. 
“I don't ca’ah, Snawt, if he has got two hun- 
dred and twenty-five I can send two fifty.” 
“Better not send it all Squire, ye mout need 
some down in these parts,” said Possum. 
“Yes,” replied Snort, “Bill’s purty well fixed 
fer this precinct, I seed a ten gallon jug settin’ 
down at the Barwaller fer him this mornin’T 


Quaker Jim 


ii 7 


“Where did he get it Snawt?” asked the 
Squire. “Don’t know I jest seed it settin’ 
thar with his name on it.’’ ‘‘Do you know, 
gentlemen, that it’s strictly against the law to 
sell or give a drink on election days?” said the 
Squire. “Do ye know Squire ye bought ten 
gallons uv whiskey last 'lection time an I wuz 
wuth }^e when ye got it?” Snort answered. 
“Well you don’t have to tell evahbody about 
it Snawt.” “I hain’t agoin’ ter tell everbody 
'bout it ef yer jest keep yer mouth shet 'bout 
Bill an sorter do the right thing towards me 
an Possum, hain’t that fair Possum?” “Yes 
it be Snort an ding-be-dinged if I would’ent 
be willin' ter take a little uv mine in advance.” 
“So would I, a little drap now would go a 
long ways towards makin’ me put that 
stamper under that old rooster’s tail.” “If 
you all don’t say a word where my wife can 
get a hold of it I might find a swallah some- 
whah.” “Not a word Squire will be said by 
me or Possum.” “An I’ll give ye my w r ord 
as an officer ter that,” said Possum. The 
Squire reached down and pulled his pant leg 
over his boot top, brought forth a small bottle, 
passed it to Snort and Possum who drained its 
contents and handed the bottle back to the 
Squire. “That’s the fust he bought sence last 
’lection,” Possum whispered to Snort. “An 
mouter begged that fer all we know,” Snort 
replied. “Gentlemen, I have in my mind a 
few good reasons to make me think I should 
win this race,” the Squire said after lie had 
replaced the bottle in its place of conceal- 


n8 Quaker Jim 

ment and pulled his pants’ leg down. “What 
be they Squire?” asked Snort. “My first rea- 
son is, I’m a Democrat.” “Yum!” Snort went. 
“Secondly, Bill Pearce is not fitted for the of- 
fice, from the fact that he has nevah been in 
politics before.” “Never learn any younger,” 
Snort dryly remarked. “My third reason is 
that he has gone all ovah the district and at- 
tacked my record in evah possuble way he 
could when he knows full well that I’ve made 
the best man they evah had in public service.” 
“Even better’ll Possum,” Snort said again. 
“Hold on here, gentlemen, hold on, ye gone a 
lettle to fer,” Possum exclaimed, rising to his 
feet. “Thar’s no man that has done his dooty 
any better'n me, an I kin prove it fer in- 
stance — ” “We know you have been a faith- 
ful man Possum and we need not to heah of 
your recowd it stands for itself.” “I ’sist, I 
must kote a few uv the things ter show ye that 
I'm right Squire.” “Proceed, Possum, lets 
hear 'em, then the Squire kin give the rest uv 
his reasons,” Snort said. “For instance, as I 
jest said afore Squire ’rupted me, I never failed 
ter do my dooty at no time. I’ve went in an 
’rested criminals that no other constable 
would dare tech. I’ve broke up all gamlin’ 
games, ’ceptin poker and dice shootin’, rooster 
an dog fights, that I hearn tell on, an some 
I did’ent hear tell on, chicken thieves air as 
scarce as Jimsum weeds, an all sence I come 
inter office. Ef I see a man drinkin’ on the 
pike anywhere, he has ter beg me lack forty 
afore I let him go.” “An pay ye lack fifty,” 


Quaker Jim 


119 

remarked Snort. “Nuthin’ said ’bout that 
Possum.” Possum did’ent seem to hear that, 
but continued. “Then stop a minute an pause 
a while, look at the charitable acts I’ve done 
that I did’ent haf ter. Who took the ’tition 
aroun’ from house ter house ter git the bridge 
over Catwright’s crick? ’Twuz Possum 
Boone. Who helped Bill Pearce ter put up 
his rail fence last spring, when the storm 
blowed it down, free uv cost an all charges? 
'Twuz Possum Boone. Who helped ye ter 

kill hogs last winter, Snort, an who wuz it the 
old red hog knocked down four times, an still 
he wuz the only man in the bunch that finally 
mowed inter her? ’Twuz Possum Boone. 
Who driv yer geese outen ole Ed Smith’s corn 
field, Squire and saved ye the loss uv ’em? 
’Twuz Possum Boone. Who got the judge 

ter send poor ole Mariah Pets ter the poor 
house so she’d be tooken ker uv? ’Twuz Pos- 
sum Boone. And who hitched up Shoo-Fly 
in his spring wagon an driv her thar one uv 
the coldest days that ever blowed? ’Twuz 
Possum Boone. Now gentlemen arter koten 
all uv these acts both brave and charitable, 
have ye anything ter say ’bout my record as 
Constable?” “We hav’ent a word to say Pos- 
sum about your record as Constable, except 
I as Squire am proud of such noble work on 
the palit of my officah.” “I don’t want no 
praise fer what I’ve done Squire, I’ll try be 
faithful ter the public as I’ve always been so 
long as I mout be in office. When 1 am dead 
ef they wanter, they kin put up a monument 


120 


Quaker Jim 


uv marble er rock fer me, I don’t ker which 
so the ydon’t put it right on top uv my grave 
an keep all the air offen me.” “Be seated 
Possum an less hear the rest uv the Squire’s 
reasons,” Snort said. The Squire stroked his 
little thin beard two or three times, parted his 
coat tails so he could sit more comfortably and 
resumed: “Well gentlemen anothah good idea 
that strikes my mind is, Bill Pearce ran the 
store for many yahs, and while he made many 
friends he also made a considahable numbah 
of enemies, whah I have made none Suh.” 
“How do ye know ye ain't Squire?” asked 
Snort. “Snawt Pm pretty sure ther’s not a 
man voted fer me last election who won’t vote 
for me again.” “Maybe they will, an maybe 
they won’t Squire.” “I have one more reason 
for thinking I’ll be elected whethah they vote 
for me or not, and Possum telling of his chari- 
table deeds, brings back many things I did 
during my terms of office that will bear great 
weight with the votah election day.” “So fer 
as Pm consarned, I hope the best man wins,” 
replied Snort, “fer I’ve got no grudgins ’ginst 
none uv ye myself. Ye air my neighbor 
Squire an we’ve always been on good terms, 
an while Bill don’t live ’xactly as close ter me 
as ye do still I’ve knowed him all my life an 
ye know all uv us wuz boys tergether, so that’s 
why I say I hope the best man wins twixt the 
two.” 

While this conversation was going on be- 
tween Snort, Possum and the Squire, Nellie 
and Bertha were out in the kitchen engaged 


Quaker Jim 


121 


in conversation, but far different to that in the 
parlor. Theirs was more of a sad nature and 
dealt upon Mandy Fox and her peculiarities 
and the seemingly rash actions of Henry Al- 
ten. Nellie had told Bertha of all of Mandy ’s 
slurs and insults towards Bob, of how Alien 
had treated him, in fact she told everything 
that had happened since she was there last, 
with the exception of two, her promise of mar- 
riage to Bob, and the assistance the Quaker 
had promised them, these she was asked not to 
tell and she did not, even to Bertha her best 
girl friend. Bertha did not know Mandy had 
an ill feeling for Bob. She only thought Mrs. 
Fox was a little above him because he was a 
hired hand of her husband’s. It made her ask 
Nellie the question, “What made your Aunt 
have a bitter feeling towards Bob? Has he 
done anything to her?” “Nothing Bertha, 
Aunt Mandy had peculiar ways, she will 
take a dislike for one and they don’t know why' 
she does it. Did’ent Bob say anything to you 
Bertha?” “He never speaks of his troubles, 
he seems to have a dislike to talk about such 
things at home, and I never ask him.” “Fie 
did’ent say anything to you about Mr. Alten?” 
“No Nellie, sometimes I say' something about 
yx>u and Mr. Alten, the only thing he will say' 
is, ‘Poor Nellie’.” “Well poor Bob, Bertha I 
feel so sorry' for him.” “Nellie do you think 
Bob may lose his position?” “I hope not 
Bertha, though you can’t tell what Aunt 
Mandy may do.” “Mr. Fox is Bob’s employer 
is’ent he?” “Yes, but Aunt Mandy can get 


122 Quaker Jim 

Uncle John to do anything by continually 
harping at him.” “If he were discharged what 
would become of us Nellie?” “Bertha we 
have always been good friends, haven’ent 
we?” “Yes, Nellie, and I hope there will 
never be nothing to separate Brother, you and 
I.” “There won’t, have no fear, I am a 
woman now and can use my money as I see 
fit. Do you think I would stand by and let 
you and Bob suffer? If Aunt Mandy causes 
Bob to lose his position, I will try locate Uncle 
Jim and tell him just what happened, he will 
come and then Mandy Fox will know who she 
is tampering with. It won’t be Uncle John 
who she can pull around anyway she pleases.” 
“Oh, Nellie, how kind you are to us. If it 
had not been for you and your good Uncle 
I don’t know where we would be to-day. I 
am so sorry that this has happened, I always 
thought Mrs. Fox liked Bob as a workman, 
she surely can’t find any fault in him and I 
know he has acted a gentleman towards her 
in every way, then why this ill feeling for 
him who is trying only to make an honest 
support for he and I in a consciencious way.” 
“I do not like to tell you Bertha, but Aunt 
Mandy has even treated me in an awful man- 
ner since I came from school, its nothing but 
abuse from morning till night and all be- 
cause I won’t give up my friendship for Bob, 
it has become so that it does’ent seem like 
home to me, if it was'ent for Uncle John I 
would’ent stay there, to think how we have 
been together from childhood, how we have 


Quaker Jim 


123 


stood by each other, how we are devoted to 
one another and then Aunt Mandy wants to 
split that friendship, make us strangers, even 
if possible enemies. O Bertha, it would break 
my heart to be separated from you and Bob, 
I would as soon be laid in my grave as to 
consider myself above you. How can she be 
so cruel to us when we have shown her noth- 
ing but respect and obedience all of our lives.” 
Nellie’s eyes were filled with tears, as she 
clung to her friend, though hard she tried 
to restrain them she could not refrain from 
giving vent to woman’s solace in time of 
trouble. Bertha raised her head gently from 
her shoulder and wiped the tears from her 
pretty blue eyes with the tender care of a 
mother. “Don’t cry Nellie dear, some day not 
far distant our troubles will be over, let us 
suffer bravely what is cast upon us now, then 
when we have come out of this land of sorrow 
our happiness will be two fold for coura- 
geously baffling with the trials and troubles 
alloted to us.” 

When Bob came into the kitchen, where the 
two girls were, he immediately perceived that 
Nellie had been crying. “What’s the matter 
Nellie, your eyes are red, you have been cry- 
ing?” “I cried a little bit,” Nellie answered in 
a childish way. “What made you cry Nel- 
lie?” “Nothing Bob, Bertha and I w r ere talk- 
ing about our little troubles and I could’ent 
help it, but I am not going to cry any more.” 
“That’s right Nellie when you come to see 
Bertha always try to enjoy yourself, don’t 


124 


Quaker Jim 

worry over a few troubles, let them pass and 
look to the future.” Bob did not ask Nellie 
what her troubles were, and she was well 
pleased that he did not. He knew the thoughts 
that were passing through her mind, and in 
order to rid her of them changed the con- 
versation. “I saw company going to your 
house this morning,” he said to Nellie. “Who 
in the world was it?” “Guess.” “I don’t 
know Bob, was it Mr. Alten?” “No.” “Edith 
Kirby.” “No.” “Her mother?” “Guess 
again.” “Mr. Pearce?” “You are not a very 
good guesser.” “Well who was it then?” 
“Pigeon-Toed-Liz.” “Mercy on us and Pos- 
sum is here.” “Is he?” “Tell him Bob she 
is over there.” “All right if you say so.” 

After dinner the Squire, Snort, and Possum 
walked out in the yard to “air off a bit,” as 
Snort put it and to take a smoke. Bertha was 
busy cleaning up the dishes, while Nellie and 
Bob were left alone in the parlor. “What has 
been the matter with you the past week Nel- 
lie, you hav'ent been sick?” “No, Bob, Auntie 
watches me every time I go out of the yard, 
I had rather stay in than to be watched every 
place I go.” “She is afraid you will see me 
I suppose?” “That’s it, she don’t want me 
to have anything to do with you but if Mr. 
Alten comes I must go into the parlor.” “I 
saw the Quaker this morning, he told me 
Alten was over there last night.” “He was 
there, but I never saw him, the first time since 
he has been coming. He and Aunt Mandy 
had a secret conversation about something 


Quaker Jim 


125 


and I fear there is trouble astir Bob.” “1 
would’ent be surprised,” he answered. “You 
are not going to forsake me Nellie, if any- 
thing happens?” “No Bob, I told you once 
no matter what may happen my love for you 
will never change.” “Brave little girl to re- 
main true to me when you are continually 
harassed by your Aunt.” “I expect much 
trouble before we are married Bob, but don’t 
get discouraged, that good old Quaker says 
he will be our friend and I am sure he will 
arrange a plan whereby we can be at peace 
with all.” “I hope he can Nellie, I would 
never want to marry you without the consent 
of the one who raised you, if I can possibly 
help it.” “I don’t like to do it either Bob. 
Let us be patient for a while and maybe Aunt 
Mandy’s hatred will die away.” “It may be 
the Quaker’s idea to talk her into liking me 
again.” “That may be possible though he 
never said that to me. The only thing he said 
was to keep up courage that some day he 
would show himself a friend indeed.” “He 
told me the same thing but is’ent it strange 
how an old man like him and only shortly ac- 
quainted takes such interest in us?” “It is a 
little queer though I suppose he just took a 
liking to us and made up his mind to help us 
with all his power.” The Quaker’s friendship 
for you and Bob, Nellie, has been for years, 
his acquaintance has extended to your births, 
his desire to help you is as natural to him as 
a mother’s love for her child. In you Nellie 
he sees the love that existed in his sister, in 


126 


Quaker Jim 

you he sees the affectionate mother, in you he 
sees the noble side of woman, and in you he 
sees his future happiness. It is entrusted to 
him to be your friend in time of need, to as- 
sist you over the wild and revengeful schemes 
of a being who is not worthy to be called a 
man, to help you conquer this pride, of your 
Aunt, that you detest so bitterly and be with 
you in future years so you may see the one 
relation you love so much. James Fox had 
so far succeeded well, every thing he de- 
sired had been carried to the letter. His 
identity had not yet been revealed, his win- 
ning the confidence of Nellie and even Bob 
was easy, his standing with Mandy was all 
that could be expected, and even Mr. Alten 
thought well of him. The trap Alten was lay- 
ing for Bob was anticipated by him from the 
night of the social, when he saw Nellie’s 
preference for Bob. He is now in wait for 
this trap of injustice to be sprung upon the 
innocent head of its victim, that he may step 
in and deliver him from the hands of its 
maker, restore the one that is trying to be 
wrenched from him to be made a solace of re- 
venge and to convince the uninformed assist- 
ant of this unmanly act the folly of her ri- 
diculous pride. If these two lovers knew at 
this moment it was James Fox who had prom- 
ised to be their friend, would they have hesi- 
tated an instant to doubt his word? Their 
fears would be no more, the tactics of Alten 
would never be tolerated, Mandy ’s threats and 
commands would have no weight, for Nellie 


Quaker Jim 


127 


knows if her Uncle Jim had promised to help 
her, she would soon be united to her choice. 

It is indeed your Uncle who has made this 
promise Nellie, you must wait and gave him 
time to work, for he has a two-fold task be- 
fore him. Not only does he want you to be 
happy but he wishes to bring your Aunt back 
to that lovely woman she once was, and his 
desire is to see her in the state she was be- 
fore John Fox married her and for five years 
after. He sees the chance now. Alten is de- 
termined to avenge himself upon James Gray, 
the one boy whose equal Mandy thought did not 
exist. The Quaker is determined he shall not 
take it out upon his Niece. In letting Mandy 
know Alten’s hatred for her favorite Nephew, 
he hopes to be able to show her what a rash 
act she was implicated in, and then point out 
to her the wisdom of humility. Will he be 
successful? James says yes, and he is a man 
of much thought before committing himself. 
Let us hope he will successfully bring them 
through this hazardous tempest, and recon- 
cile them, and Mandy may wish them united 
in peace and good will. 

Bob told Possum of Pigeon-Toed-Liz being 
a visitor at Uncle Snort’s, so when he started 
back to work Possum insisted on going with 
him. “Scuse me gentlemen," he said to Snort 
and the Squire, “I really got some business 
t’tend ter this ’cevnin’ an if Bob don’t ’ject 
I’ll jest go along as he does.” ‘‘What’s yer 
business Possum?” “We people uv the law 
can’t jest ’xactly tell everything kin we 


128 


Quaker Jim 


Squire?” “No indeed Possum, there are many 
things we must keep secret.” “Liz is at your 
house Mr. Fox, I thought perhaps Possum 
may be going there,” Bob said. “Gret snortin’ 
Injuns that settles it, go on Possum.” “That’s 
not my reason fer goin’ Snort, though I did’ent 
say I mout not stop by on my way back.” “Pos- 
sum ye’ve got no more business this ’cevnin’ 
than yer Uncle Snort has, an not as much, if 
ye wanter see the gal why don’t ye jest say 
so?” “Ding-be-dinged Snort ef I hain’t bound 
ter go, much as I lack ter be with ye all.” 
“Well go ahead, me and Nellie’ll be along 
t’reckly.” Snort spent the afternoon teasing 
Bertha and his Niece, with the Squire to help 
out a little now and then. “Bertha, ’spose 
some rich feller’d come along an offer ter 
marry ye think ye’d have sense enough ter 
take him?” “I think so Mr. Fox.” “Nellie 
hain’t.” “She has’ent?” “No, thars that fel- 
ler stayin’ over ter Squire’s got more money 
than a railroad owner, do ye think she’d be 
smart enough ter take him?” “Maybe she 
can’t get him.” “Yes she kin, can’t she 
Squire?” “Yes indeed he seems to be very 
much taken with her.” “Well bring him over 
to me I will be glad to get him Squire.” “All 
right Bertha I’ll do that.” “Ef ye do Squire 
Nellie’ll git jealous, kase she don’t want him 
herself ner she don’t want anybody ter git 
him. Do you Nellie?” “Just as you say 
Uncle John.” “Nellie ye know he’s been corn- 
in’ over thar right along, an instid uv ye settin’ 
ter him ye pitch out an go ter see the Quaker, 


Quaker Jim 


129 


who's old enough ter be yer dady twice, 
hain’t he Bertha?” “Yes, but he is nice.” 
“Yum! What do ye think of that Squire? 
Reckon they’ll be sayin’ I’m lovely ’fore long.” 
“I expect they will if you primp up Suh,” said 
the Squire. “That’s all right, but my primp- 
in’ days are over. I uster grease my boots an 
bresh my duster an look as sprightly as any 
uv ’em did’ent I Squire?” “That’s what you 
did Snawt, by thundah.” “Why you are real 
handsome now, Mr. Fox, and if you was’ent 
married I would try and get you,” Bertha said. 
“Gret scratchin’ wild cats gal, ye lost yer mind 
hain’t ye?” “Why no, don’t you think he is 
handsome Nellie?” “Of course he is, he looks 
so boyish.” “Wa’al that’s morein I kin say 
ier ye all, in the fust place Nellie looks lack 
a hen pecked critter kase she can’t git the 
Quaker, an ye look lack a drawed up screech 
owl kase ye can’t git Tom Smith. I reckon 
ole Ed’d go up in a spasm ef he wust’ have 
ye.” “I expect he would,” Bertha answered. 
“Snawt what makes you like to tease these 
girls so? You know they are as good look- 
ing as any othah two girls in the county, 
Suh.” “Thank you Squire,” said Nellie and 
Bertha together. “You are quite welcome 
girls, you know I nevah pass a compliment 
unless I mean it.” “Ye ax me why I lack ter 
tease ’em. I hain’t teasin’ ’em, ever word I 
say is the pint blank truth and ye kin look at 
’em an see it.” “You say that but no one else 
better not say it.” “The reason I say it is 
kase I hain’t scared uv ’em, if anybody else 


130 


Quaker Jim 


said sich a thing they’d both fly on ter him 
lack a hawk arter a chicken.” “What do you 
think of that girls,” the Squire asked. “We 
are so used to it Squire, that if he did’ent 
say something about us we would feel he 
did’ent like us any more,” Bertha replied. 

Mandy was thoroughly disgusted when 
Pigeon-Toed-Liz rode up to spend the day. 
She was much angered at her husband’s tak- 
ing Nellie over to Tharpe’s, and this put the 
finishing touch to her wrath, her intentions 
being to make a short call on Mrs. Kirby and 
to be back before Snort and Nellie returned. 
Liz broke up the arrangement, however, for 
had she started, Liz would surely have 
followed. Mandy would rather have never 
seen Kirby’s than to have gone with Liz 
when Mr. Alten was there so she had to 
stay home and entertain “Cousin Possum’s 
Girl.’ Liz deposited her things on the bed 
and took a seat in the rocker she so firmly 
held to the night of the social. “What be the 
news Mandy?” she asked of her after she had 
pulled herself and the rocker close by the 
window to get the breeze. “Nuthin’ new Liz, 
do ye know any?” “None ’ceptin’ I hearn the 
dude come over right smart ter see Nellie.” 
“Mr. Alten thinks smartly ’bout her Liz.” 
“Does she think much uv him?” “I don’t 
know, though I think she do.” “I don’t.” 
“Why?” “Kase Nellie loves Bob an thars no- 
body cornin’ twixt ’em.” “How do ye know 
they hain’t?” retorted Mandy. “Air ye?” 
“Yes I be, Nellie’ll never marry Bob Tharpe, 


Quaker Jim 


131 

fer I’ve sot my foot down on it.” “What ye 
got ter do with it?” “So much ef she ’tempts 
ter do it she'll be stopped in double quick 
hurry.” “Hold on Madam, Nellie kin do as 
she pleases, an ef ye go ter foolin’ with her 
ye’ll git one uv the worst doses ever handed 
ter ye, she’s got too much uv her dady in her 
ter be fooled with by a critter lack ye.” Liz 
had no fear of Mandy and she had as soon 
call her one name as another, especially when 
Mandy commenced to get “Pwert” as she 
termed it. “I git sick uv listenin’ ter tales’ 
'bout Nellie an Bob Tharpe agoin’ ter marry. 
Who’s he but a common worker on our farm?” 
Mandy said. “Who wuz ye afore ye married 
John Fox but a common worker on yer dady’s 
place.” “I want ye ter know that Bob Tharpe 
is not Nellie’s equal, ner will she marry him 
so long as I’m Mandy Fox.” “He’s as good 
as Nellie er ye either an ye won’t hear Nellie 
say he hain’t. This thing uv ye bein’ above 
everbody in the neighborhood kase ye hap- 
pened ter be fortunate in marryin’ money, 
makes me tired.” “I don’t claim ter be above 
everbody. I do think people oughter stay in 
their class.” “Why don’t ye stay in yourn, if 
ye come right down ter the facts an figures uv 
it, he’s head an shoulders above ye kase he’s 
got a purty good edecation whar ye can't spell 
cat.” “I kin so spell cat an, moreover, I kin 
spell a lot uv things ye can’t.” “I don't own 
ter any schoolin’ myself, I’m nuthin’ but a 
workin’ gal lack ye wuz an ye don’t hear me 
runnin’ ’round spoutin’ myself bettern any- 


J 3 2 


Quaker Jim 


body.” Liz was getting too close to Mandy 
for comfort. She knew it would be useless to 
argue with her for she had tried it before, and 
to order her from the house meant to give 
battle so she used her old course of smoothing 
things over with a little kindness. “Liz I 
don’t mean ter be cross wuth ye this mornin’ 
an I don’t want ye ter be so wuth me. I’m 
always glad ter see ye come ef ye don’t start 
this arguein’. Ye know I am sorter a little 
quick headed an say things I oughten ter.” 
“That’s all right Mandy, but ye must’ent git 
up an say Nellie Gray can’t do as she pleases, 
er Bob hain’t as good as ye be. What makes 
ye have sich a spite again him Mandy?” “Kase 
he’s tryin' his best ter git Nellie an I’m de- 
termined he shan’t have her.” “Don’t part 
yer hair too near one ear ter spite tuther 
Mandy, Bob Tharpe’s repetation is as good as 
anybody elses in this country, an I don’t see 
whar Nellie could do any better.” “Thar’s 
lots uv people Liz that’s much bettern he be, 
she could git.” “Who air they?” “Mr. Alten 
fer one.” “How do ye know he is better’n 
Bob?” Ye’ve only knowed him a short time 
where ye knowed Bob all his life an ye know 
he’s never done one thing against ye, if ye say 
thars anybody }^e know bettern him Mandy 
Fox ye tell a bare faced lie.” “Wa’al maybe 
I do Liz, but I’ll never think it.” “Mandy ye 
uster be one uv the best women in the 
neighborhood, ye wuz good an kind towards 
everybody, now ye’ve got so cranky an puffed 
up nobody wants ter talk ter ye. Let me 


Quaker Jim 


133 


* 


tell ye sumpin’ right now Mandy, the cat that 
ketches the mice holds her head low, and the 
rooster that rears back too fer don’t crow 
loud.” Here was food for thought. The 
coarse philosophy of Liz bore heavily upon 
Mandy’s mind for a while, it brought her back 
to her younger days when she toiled from 
morning till night on her father’s farm, and 
did’ent know what it was to have a penny at 
her command, not even clothes to compare 
with the girls of her age, yet she was a happy 
girl, she never felt the sting of pride, her love 
was the same for all. Why? It was by her 
help that enabled her father to support his 
wife and six girls younger than she on a small 
farm given them by Nellie Gray’s grandfather. 
It was this struggle to “Keep the wolf from 
the door” that made her feel so kindly towards 
the ones who shared he^ fate. This life was 
kept up till all the children were able to sup- 
port themselves, when she married John Fox, 
nor did she get her pride from him for he is 
noted to be the most common man in the 
neighborhood, though the wealthiest. It was 
his leniency perhaps that added materially to 
her downfall. He gave in to every little fancy 
she wanted till she became like a child, badly 
spoiled. The first five years of her married 
life was as she had lived single, nothing but 
work, not that she had to do it, she had been 
so accustomed to it that to take a rest through 
the day was far from her thoughts. A change 
came;little by little she dropped off from work, 
every new dress was a little finer, her hats be- 


134 Quaker Jim 

came more costly, she must wear the finest of 
shoes, a pair of the best kid gloves were pur- 
chased, something she never wore before and 
although they had to be a man’s size to fit her, 
she wore them just the same. For Mandy to 
dress and dress well, is no more than any 
woman should do whether young or old, for 
the one pleasing thing to the eyes of a man 
is a well dressed woman. Did she stop at 
this? They who had been her associates and 
friends, was'ent good enough, she must branch 
out, get away from the good old time country 
folk, that holds a near and dear place in every 
American’s heart. She must go where educa- 
tion and refinement holds supreme. Don’t 
blame her for that. Education everyone 
should try to have, refinement every one 
should have. Mandy’s idea of refinement con- 
sisted in wealth, gaudy clothes, people who 
could ride in carriages, etc., so far did her 
refinement carry her, she wanted a bicycle just 
to make short calls, as Dr. Water’s wife had 
one to use for such purposes, although she 
had several catalogues sent her by different 
bicycle firms, this whim was never carried out, 
for about the time she had gotten her hus- 
band in the notion to buy it, Mrs. Dr. Water’s 
sold hers to a negro girl for five dollars and 
that made Mandy change her mind, thanks to 
the Doctor’s wife. She really thought that by 
wearing the best of everything that made edu- 
cation too. Thus it went on little at a time, 
until we see her standing at the door forc- 
ing away the man who was known as the 


Quaker Jim 


135 


good and kindly Jim Fox. Did the tears of 
a little blue eyed girl, who pleaded piteously 
with Mandy to recede her harsh treatment 
towards her Uncle and ask her to let him stay, 
have any effect? Onward she went in her 
mad rush for foolish fancies, till we see her 
again planning to deliver over this same little 
girl to a man whom she little thinks wishes 
to destroy her whole life and for the same pur- 
pose Mandy is aiming, namely: Bigoted Pride. 
These thoughts as they wandered through her 
mind, almost made her relent for the hatred 
for Bob. At one time she felt like going out 
where he was and asking his pardon for the 
abuses she had heaped upon him. Alas, the 
monster Pride, again arose to claim its victim, 
what an honor it would be for people to say 
she was the instrument of uniting in mar- 
riage her Niece to a Southern Gentleman of 
high standing. What a victory over Jim Fox, 
if he be alive and found out she had her way 
over Nellie. She would be looked upon as the 
great Mrs. Fox, the sole leader of the neigh- 
borhood in society, even Mrs. Kirby, the head 
of sociality, would be eclipsed by this last 
grand act. Pride again had won the mastery. 
Humility was vanished, with the exit of one 
for the other her thoughts were redoubled in 
energy against Nellie’s marriage to Bob. Rush 
on O woman of Folly over this road of Vanity, 
till you hit the rock that will turn you back 
to the path of Humility from whence you 
came. 


136 


Quaker Jim 


CHAPTER VII. 

Election day came, the voice of the people 
was to decide whether Squire Kirby, the leader 
of Democracy in the district, should retain his 
seat as Magistrate, or Bill Pearce, the strong 
and life-long Republican, should succeed him 
in his coveted office. The county does not 
exist in any State of the whole Union that 
does not have its hot elections for local officers 
and more especially in the country districts, 
where not like the city, every voter knows the 
candidate, his record, in fact his whole family 
history for generations. It is a very common 
thing for a Squire to ride up in front of a little 
country store, where usually you find the 
farmers sitting around on boxes and barrels 
or squatted on their heels against a post 
whittling a stick and telling their neighbors 
who perhaps may be seated on top the public 
scales, seeing how far he can squirt his to- 
bacco juice out in the road, what so and so got 
for his hogs a day or two ago, to call each 
gentleman by his Christian name or nick 
name, pretty near all of them carry. As the 
argument becomes heated in every district and 
every little misdeed the candidate has been 
guilty of is repeated time and again for the 
benefit of bringing votes for the opponent, so 


Quaker Jim 


I 37 

now the debates of the farmers are at their 
highest pitch over which is the better man, the 
Squire or Bill Pearce. You have probably read 
much of these elections, therefore, we do not 
altogether, wish to tell you about this one, but 
what happened a few hours after. Plot sultry 
weather prevailed on the day of the election 
and two storms were expected at any time, 
one from the elements, another from the 
voters who would possibly get too much 
liquor. Between the two it had a great many 
of the farmers in “Plot water,” though they 
were assured confidently by Possum that the 
best order among the men would be main- 
tained ; about the weather he also assured them 
he had no authority, therefore, he could not 
act, but the Democrats said they would go 
vote for Squire if there were two cyclones and 
a dozen fights' at the polls, while Bill’s men 
were just as determined. The Squire was up 
and on his way to the voting place before day. 
Mrs. Kirby had prepared lunch for the voters 
consisting of lamb, beef, pork, bacon, ham, 
bread, coffee and numerous kinds of vege- 
tables, that is Mrs. Kirby cooked it, but the 
expense came out of the campaign funds. Bill 
Pearce expecting this, was not to be outdone, 
he served chicken, roasted pork, potato salad, 
vegetables, even free cake and lemonade was 
found on Bill’s table, a great treat to the 
country folks, to which Possum helped him- 
self plentiful both at Bill’s and the Squire’s 
table. It may be remarked in passing over 
this election that Possum was electioneering 


138 Quaker Jim 

for the Squire, and was over early for Uncle 
Snort to go to the polls to vote. “What ye 
say Snort don't ye think ye better git thar 
early?” “I don’t b’live I’ll go till arter dinner 
Possum, kase it looks too much lack rain this 
mornin’.” “Ding-be-dinged Snort ef ye had’ent 
better go now, them fellers'll git ahead uv ye 
an roust out ever drap that’s thar long ’fore 
dinner, sides thar’s two tables sot right at the A 
polls an ye don’t haf ter werry 'bout surnpin’ 
ter eat.” “I know all 'bout that Possum but 
the Quaker wants ter go up thar this ’cevin’ 
an I promised ter take him in the buggy.” 
“Ye’ll be mouty sorry ye did’ent come, kase 
she’s agoin’ ter be a hummin’ hot race, an the 
Squire ’spects ye ter help him out.” “Hain’t 
ye agoin’ ter pull fer him Possum?” “Yes, 
though the more the better an ye mout have a 
whole lot uv ’fluence with some uv ’em fel- 
lers Snort.” “Ye know ’em as well as I do an 
ye can do as much with ’em can’t ye?” “Don’t 
know ’bout that Snort, some uv ’em fellers’ll 
have more ’spect fer your word than mine.” 
“Possum I’ll tell ye though I would’ent tell 
Squire, I hain’t got any too much love fer 
Bill Pearce, but I hain’t agoin’ up thar an pull 
agin him. When I go ter the polls I’m agoin’ 
ter vote fer Squire an ef Bill asks me why I 
did’ent vote fer him I’m agoin’ ter tell him an 
that’s sarcin.” Possum knew it would do no 
good to insist further with Snort, he told him 
not to fail to be there in the afternoon and 
with two or three well aimed kicks into “Slioo- 
Fly’s” ribs rode on to meet some other fellow 


Quaker Jim 139 

who would possibly take the- great responsi- 
bility of helping him to elect the Squire. 

Snort informed Bob if he wished to vote he 
could go for that day as it “war’ent customary 
ter work on ’lection day nohow.” “Ar’ent you 
going to vote Mr. Fox?” Bob asked him. “I 
think I will, though I got plenty time yit. 
Bob tain't none uv my business ter ask ye, but 
which uv the two is yer choice?” “Mr. Fox, 
I will tell you, Mr. Pearce has always been a 
friend of mine, he has helped me in many 
ways.” “I know that,” Snort said. “While 
the Squire has treated me nicely, I think it my 
duty to vote for Mr. Pearce.” “That’s every 
man’s privilege ter do as he pleases, ye know 
though Bob i’m a little aginst Bill.” “I know 
Mr. Pearce did not treat you quite right when 
you bought that horse from him.” “No, he 
did’ent Bob, I’d lack ter vote fer him ef it 
war’ent for that.” “Why did’ent you make 
him take it back?” “No Siree, Bob when a 
man kin fool yer Uncle Snort in a trade he 
don’t say nuthin’ ’bout it till a good time 
comes along then he fools him back an that’s 
jest what I’m agoin’ ter do ter him sartin as 
his name is Bill Pearce. By me askin’ ye who 
yer agoin’ ter vote fer, I did’ent mean fer ye 
ter go back on Bill fer me, lie’s a mouty good 
friend uv yourn Bob, an I want ye ter vote fer 
him ef it suits ye.” “I am much obliged to 
you Mr. Fox for having such consideration for 
me, you know I would be a traitor to go back 
on him.” “Purty nigh it Bob, ole Bill always 
lacked ye an ye air 'bout the only feller he 


T40 


Quaker Jim 

ever give anything ter. He’s been tight as a 
flee towards everbody else, an it would’ent 
’sprise me if he hain’t got his skin kivered 
with ticks ter keep it frum stretchin’.” 
“That’s true, he is not very liberal, though to 
take him all the way through he is a pretty 
good man.” “Fer Bill,” Snort answered. 
“Why should’ent he be for Bill as well as for 
other people?” “Its all right ter be a little 
fer yerself, but not too much fer the reason 
that a man may need anuther sometime an ef 
ye don’t help them a little they won’t help 
ye, fer instance, one wild cat won’t help an- 
uther less they be mates an that’s why so 
many gits killed.” 

To Snort it was entirely satisfactory for 
Bob to vote for the man who had befriended 
him in so many ways. To Mandy it was quite 
contrary and when she heard of it another 
storm of abuse broke forth from her fiery 
tongue against Bob. “What’s the Squire ever 
done agin him?” she asked her husband. 
“What did he ever do fer him?” Snort 
retaliated. “What’s he wuth doin’ fer? 
Ye’ve all hoped him too much now an he 
thinks he’s as good as ye be.” “Hain’t 
he?” “It won’t do ter humor these sorter 
people too much, let ’em stay whar they 
b’long.” “It’s a pity ye wuz’ent left ter stay 
thar.” “Don’t ye rate me wuth him John Fox, 
thar’s as much difference twixt me an him as 
thar is b’twixt day an night.” “He’s bettern 
ye.” “What? That thing, an me packed him 
in my arms when he wuz a baby? He thinks he 


Quaker Jjm 141 

is as good as me? An now he gits right up 
an tells ye ter yer face he’s fer ole Bill Pearce, 
an ye won’t discharge him?” “That’s none uv 
my business Mandy, an 'sides Cousin Possum 
mout jail me kase its aginst the law ter highst 
a feller for the way he votes.” “The very idee 
uv his agoin’ agin the Squire what do ye 
think him an Mr. Alten think uv us?” “I 
don’t know, nuther do I ker. I don’t owe Mr. 
Alten or the Squire a red Injun cent nuther 
does Bob.” “No, ye don’t ker I haf ter face it, 
I haf ter take it all, I’ll be ’shamed ter look 
Mrs. Kirby in the face.” “I’ll face the Squire 
if he pays that note, he owes me.” “Bob 
Tharpe’s been a workin’ here all his life time 
then ter go back on our friends, it’s enuf ter 
make a saint mad that’s what it be, an ef ye 
don’t go tell him ter vote fer the Squire I 
will.” “Better hurry up then he’s been gone 
a half hour.” “Let him go the Squire don't 
want his vote, he feels it would be ratin’ his- 
self common ter take a vote lack that.” “What 
wuz he a doin’ at his house ’bout two weeks 
ago?” No answer to this question came from 
Mandy, for here she was interrupted. Nellie 
never uttered a syllable during the conversa- 
tion till Mandy said those last words against 
Bob, the spirit of her father arose within her, 
she could stand to hear Bob abused in this 
manner no longer, with just anger she arose 
from her seat and with one motion of her hand 
demanded Mandy to be silent. “Aunt Mandy 
this abuse must stop, if Uncle John don’t 
make you I will. You take every opportun- 


142 


Quaker Jim 


it y to rash judge Bob Tharpe you can, you 
find fault in every thing he does, it matters 
not how hard he tries to please you, you dis- 
like him and nothing he could do would be ap- 
preciated by you. If you had ever had the 
happiness to be a mother, could you treat 
anyone in the manner you do him. Could you 
trample on my feelings like you do, when 
you know it makes my heart ache to hear you 
speak ill of him or anybody that is a friend 
to me. You, a woman over fifty years of age, 
should be ashamed of yourself to act like that 
towards one who has done you no harm. You 
should be thinking of preparing yourself for 
the great beyond, instead of planning and plot- 
ting every way in your power to take from 
this man the character he has made. Does it 
not dwell upon your mind that this is wrong? 
Don’t something tell you when you try to put 
down honesty you can never succeed? Some- 
thing does tell you this, moreover, it tells you 
all of this must be accounted for, sooner or 
later, and the longer it goes the more bitter 
will be the cup of satisfaction demanded for 
the wrong doings to others.” Mandy’s anger 
knew no bounds, so intense was it that she 
shook from head to foot. “Ye will stop me 
will ye? I oughter be - ashamed uv myself 
ought I? I must ’pare fer tuther side Hagh ! 
I’ll tell ye what ye’ll do, ye’ll tend ter yer 
own business, I’m boss uv this house, what 
I say is law aroun’ here, ye’ve got nuthin’ ter 
do wuth it, but ye’ll do jest ’xactly what I tell 
ye. An it’s this, ye’ll never mention Bob 


M3 


Quaker Jim 

1 harpe’s name in my presence agin, ye’ll go 
jest whar I tell ye. I’ve worked hard ter git 
ye in the best s’iety, ye won’t mind me, now 
I’ll make ye mind, an woe be ter ye ef ye don’t. 
It’s a pity I wuz as easy wuth ye as I have 
been, ef I’d stayed strict wuth ye lack I 
oughter, ye'd never been sich a stubborn 
headed gal, an I’d never had any truble wuth 
ye. No, John says ye must have yer own 
way, yer mamy had it an she wuz a good 
womern, so ye’d be when ye got grown. See 
now what I git fer lettin’ ye have it? Nuthin’ 
but ’buse frum ye, not even thanks fer tryin’ 
ter raise ye lack a spectable chile. Ye’ve been 
spiled so much ye think ye air the boss uv 
everbody, but I’ll take it outen ye y it.” “You 
may forbid me to go places Aunt Mandy, you 
may forbid me to speak to Bob Tharpe and 
you may tell me who I am to go with, but I 
will assure you that you have nothing to do 
with me any more, I will tell you that you 
will dare not try to stay me from speaking 
to anyone, and I also wish to inform you no 
matter how hard you try, I will never marry 
Henry Alten.” Again her Niece had shown 
her independence, Mandy’s commands were 
fruitless, but she kept up little attacks all day, 
till finally she worried Nellie so much her 
mind became overtaxed with suffering ; so ter- 
rible were they she wandered away from 
home, where she was going she knew not, nor 
did she seemingly care, anywhere would be 
suitable to rid herself of Mandy’s insults. 

Uncle Snort expected the war of words 


144 


Quaker Jim 


from Mandy which had just taken place left 
the room before the landslide came nor did he 
come back till evening, thinking it would be 
better to let the “smoke clear away.” Well he 
knew if he returned during the “thick of the 
fray,” he like Nellie, would get his in full 
measure for he remarked as he left the room : 
“The pot wuz bilen an she would be spillin’ 
over in a minute.” He hitched “Gray Eagle” 
to the buggy and away he went to the 
Quaker’s as fast as the pride of the barn could 
travel nor did he spare the rod on his pet un- 
til he had gotten out of sight of the house, 
neither did he fail to look around, with every 
lash, to see if Mandy was on his track. Gray 
Eagle seeming to realize when the danger line 
had been passed fell back into his little jog. 
Snort thinking the horse knew his business 
put the whip in its place and lazily chuckled 
over how his wife looked when Nellie told her 
how she was acting. “Whoop ! The ole gal 
did swell up in the neck, Ell bet ten cents 
wuth uv manufactured terbacker every drap 
uv blood her body 'tains wuz squiz right up in 
her neck. Her teeth wuz a chatterin’ lack a 
ole gander Tomr a pack uv goslins, an I 
reckon what she tole the little gal’d make yer 
head swim, but Nellie swung ter her an ef she 
wuz’ent too soft hearted, she’d make Mandv 
take ter the bushes. I reckon ef I'd stayed 
thar she’d been ’bout ready fer me now, yer 
Uncle Snort could’ent stand the buzz, did’ent 
sound lack no Junebug ter me, so I thought 
I’d better be agoin’ an not stay ter dinner. I 


145 


Quaker Jim 

did’ent think I’d feel much hungry anyhow 
when she got through with me.” Snort 
passed his time with these thoughts, till Gray 
Eagle walked up in front of the Quaker’s and 
stopped, looked around at his master to in- 
form him that he was at the end of the line. 

“Good-morning, Mr. Fox, what brought thee 
so early, I thought thee was to come after 
dinner?” What brought Snort so early was 
never intended to be told to the Quaker, a 
substitute would sound better according to 
Snort’s mind. “Wa’al I'll tell ye Quaker, 1 
hearn this mornin’ she wuz agoin’ ter be a red 
pepper race, I thought we’d better start soon 
as possible so I could git ter vote an see the 
fun arter.” “I may not be ready before two 
o’clock if thee want to go now I can go an- 
other time.” “No, jest go an 'tend ter yer 
business ; I kin wait. I thought ef ye wuz’ent 
very busy, we mout start early.” “Have a 
seat, after a little while we shall have some 
dinner.” The Quaker did not get ready at two 
o’clock, it was after three when they started. 
Gray Eagle was forced into as much speed as 
possible to reach the polls in time to allow 
Snort to vote. The election was an open bal- 
lot affair in which every voter was invited by 
both parties to cast a vote for him while the 
crowd stood about to see which way he went. 
One fellow would walk up and announce in 
emphatic terms amid wild cheers from the 
Republican side, to “Put me down for Bill 
Pearce,” while another just behind would in- 
form the election officers he was “A Kirby 


146 Quaker Jim 

man from head ter foot.” The shout would 
change to the Democratic side. It was amus- 
ing to hear some express themselves when 
they were asked for which man they desired 
to cast their ballot. Some little bowlegged 
fellow with his cottonades stuffed in his boot 
tops and his eyes glancing around to see who 
would think his remark smart, would say : 
“Put me down in black an white fer Squire 
Kirby, the man amongst Democrats by 
gravey, an be shore ye git it as fer frum that 
cabin as ye kin.” “Let my name be stuck 
right under that door an see that the rooster 
don’t scratch it out,” would come from a tall 
husky farmer with a look of self importance 
about him. Again a short stout fellow with 
a broad brim hat and a tight fitting suit, with 
pant legs going up would inform the officers, 
as if they did'ent know: “I’ve been a Demo- 
crat all uv my life an ’spects ter raise my 
children sich, so jest stick it under the rooster 
fer me an let him crow loud an long fer 
Squire Kirby arter the election.” Another 
walks in, though humble-looking, and with 
modest speech gives vent to his opinion thus- 
ly: “A log cabin wuz I born in, a log cabin 

do I live in, a log cabin I ’spects ter die in, 
an every time I see a cabin she makes me 
wanter vote, so under she goes fer me.” This 
kept up all day, and the race was becoming 
heated towards four o’clock, the closing-time. 
Possum Boone lent all of his possible energy 
to the Squire, every time he could get around 
some half-witted fellow and talk him into vot- 


Quaker Jim 147 

ing for the Squire his little squint eyes would 
sparkle like diamonds for joy. Ten minutes 
of four came, all the votes had practically been 
cast. Bill Pearce had two hundred and thirty- 
five, Squire Kirby had the same amount. The 
district contained four hundred and ninety 
voters, out of the remaining votes either can- 
didate did not expect over one or two more 
to be cast. Bill was raving because Uncle 
Snort did’ent come. The Squire was pleading 
almost piteously for Possum to mount “Shoo- 
Fly” and go up the road at full speed to see 
if he could meet Snort and hurry him to the 
polls before they closed. Possum could not 
accommodate his friend in this, he was doing 
a greater work, two strong Republicans were 
taking things easy out in a little patch of 
woods not two hundred yards from the polls, 
and Possum thought it his stern duty to hold 
them there for they had not voted, and the 
Squire can feel grateful to Possum, though he 
did take the necessary article out of his buggy 
without leave, had it not been for this little 
piece of “strategy,” as Possum termed it, 
things would have fared badly for the Squire. 
A cloud of dust was seen in the distance, 
though not moving rapidly, it was surely 
headed to the polls. A little closer it drew, 
all eyes were turned upon it, onward it came 
till Snort and the Quaker were revealed. The 
Squire was wild with joy, Bill was confident 
of victory, a tremendous shout roared forth 
from both parties as Snort stepped from the 
buggy. No doubt had a band been present 


j 


148 


Quaker Jim 


“Hail to the Chief” would have been the pop- 
ular air. Bill shouted in a loud voice, “By 
gin g, here comes old Snort,” grabbed him by 
the arm and led him to the voting place. Bill 
was not alone with the voter, on the other side 
of him was the Squire pleading for Snort to 
do his duty. “Slap her down, Snort, slap her 
down,” said Bill. “Ye want me ter slap her 
down?” Snort asked. “Yes, by all means,” 
Bill replied. “Wa’al boys, jest slap her down 
fer Squire Kirby.” When this vote was cast 
the bell tolled four, signifying the election was 
over, Squire Kirby was the next magistrate by 
one vote. Squire hugged Snort and Possum, 
Possum wept for joy, while Bill Pearce looked 
on dumfounded. “I'll remember ye fer this, 
Snort,” said Bill. “Yes, an I been ’memberin’ 
ye fer four year, ever sence ye put that old 
buck kneed stump suckin’ boss off on me. 
Ye thought ye wuz powerful smart fer stickin’ 
me. I reckon ye’ll sorter notice who ye poke 
yer ole no count hosses on frum this out.” The 
Republicans, headed by Bill Pearce, started 
for home, Squire and his followers remained 
some time talking over the great victory. 
Possum informed the gentlemen while it was 
a decisive victory he expected a much larger 
plurality. He impressed upon the Squire’s 
mind that had it not been for him the Squire 
would never have been elected. The Squire 
thanked him for his assistance, but in no wise 
would give him credit for the victory, he said 
it was his masterly speeches during the cam- 
paign that turned the tide. Possum resented 


Quaker Jim 


149 


this statement ana gave him to understand 
there were two Republicans lying over in the 
woods who would surely have done the work 
for Bill had it not been for him. When they 
started for home Possum was just able to find 
the left side of “Shoo-Fly.” The Squire was 
using the tail of his frock to wipe his mouth. 
Snort remained pretty fair, for Snort, he had 
g'otten enough to put him in a wild cat and 
Indian frame of mind. The Quaker remained 
as he came, Snort imparted many brave deeds 
of his past life. On a part of the road home, 
which was about four miles, it would be im- 
possible to tell how many red-faced scalpin’ 
Indians he mowed down, and how many wild 
cats were utterly slaughtered by his brave and 
powerful hand. In fact so brave was he that 
he feared not the most ferocious beast or the 
most venemous reptile, just at that time. So 
much elated was Squire over his victory, so 
much importance w r as Possum casting upon 
himself in the election of the Squire, so 
wrapped up was Snort in Indians and wild 
cats, and so much interested was the Quaker 
in Snort’s imaginary tales, that none of them 
noticed a muddy-looking cloud hanging in the 
west. On they went in no particular hurry. 
‘'Gray Eagle” took no especial pains to show 
spirit, nor did Snort enforce any on him. 
“Shoo-Fly,” with his master reeling from side 
to side, followed in back of Snort’s buggy, his 
head drooped, his one eye half closed, and his 
ears flopped down, looking like he had just as 
soon spend the night where he was as to pro- 


150 Quaker Jim 

ceed farther. Possum had rode him hard dur- 
ing the day, all of the vicious biting and kick- 
ing seemed to be gone, he never even tried 
to bite the Squire’s horse that was walking 
beside him. A little rumbling of thunder was 
heard after they had gone on in this way for 
some distance. “I think a storm will overtake 
us before we get home, if we don’t make bet- 
ter time,” the Quaker said. “Let her come, 
nuthin’ I lack bettern ter be amongst storms, 
it ’minds me uv olden times,” Snort answered. 
“I don’t like the lightning, it is dangerous 
along these country roads.” “’Tain’t agoin’ 
ter hurt ye, Ben Franklin, so I’ve hearn cotch 
a chunk uv it one time in a bottle an kep it in 
thar fer six months, started a ’lectric factory 
an got rich makin’ light without coal oil.” “I 
don’t believe I care to try that this evening, 
my bones may not fare so well.” “Wa’al I 
never tried it myself, don’t think I’m scared, 
though, give me the right kinder bottle an I’ll 
fill her up ter the cork.” “What kind of bottle 
does it take?” the Quaker asked. “That’s the 
secret, I never did hear anybody say what kind 
it wuz. Ben got a patten, an nobody never 
foun’ it out, jest lack I got a patten on stran- 
gling a wild cat. Ben’s died wuth him an 
mine’ll die wuth me.” The cloud drew upon 
them faster and faster. A flash of lightning 
and a peal of thunder told them the storm was 
at hand. Snort commenced to get frightened, 
he had reckoned too fast, he thought he would 
have plenty of time to reach home before the 
storm came on. Here he was out on a lonely 


Quaker Jim 


I5i 

road in danger of being struck by the lightning 
at any time. How much would he now have 
given had he told the truth, that he was in 
mortal dread of storms. Just as they passed 
the front of Bill Pearce’s house the rain com- 
menced to fall in large drops. Bill looked out 
the door and said to Snort, “I hope ye drown, 
conswoggle ye.” Of course they could never 
stop there, on down the road a little farther 
and out of sight of Bill's house sat his corn 
crib. This was their hope. “Gray Eagle” 
never got such a lashing in all his life as he 
did in those few yards to the crib. Bill’s crib 
sat on posts, about four feet from the ground. 
No shed for wagons to stand under was at- 
tached. The roof protruded out from the walls 
on either side, a couple of feet, to hold back 
rain and snow from the corn. As soon as the 
buggy had gotten in front of the place Snort 
leaped from the vehicle, made a rush for un- 
der the crib. He seemed to have forgotten 
during the excitement that six feet was higher 
than four, a foot was as low as he stooped, his 
head hit the lower log and back he came with 
the full force of his two hundred and twenty 
pounds to the ground. It never even stunned 
the “brave man,” for just as it happened an- 
other keen flash of lightning came. Not tak- 
ing time to raise himself to his feet, he gave 
a few quick jerks of the body, pulled himself 
to the center of the crib, rose to his knees, 
striking his head against a sill of the crib, he 
demanded the Quaker to securely fasten “Gray 
Eagle” to the other side of the road, “Kase 


152 


Quaker Jim 


bosses draw lightnin’, an all come under quick 
as possible, less a whiz uv the stuff come along 
an brain the whole bunch.” Snort’s demands 
were being carried out as fast as they could. 
Possum was trying might and main to loosen 
his foot from the stirrup of his saddle, when, 
in the rush to get under the crib, he, instead 
of getting off “Shoo-Fly,” fell off. The Squire 
finally came to Possum’s assistance and res- 
cued him from his awful plight, not, however, 
until a nail in Possum’s free shoe had buried 
itself in the tail of Squire’s coat and added 
another hole for Mrs. Kirby to darn to the 
many she had already patched. The Quaker 
was the second man under the crib, followed 
closely by Squire. Possum at last got ‘‘Shoo- 
Fly” hitched, and with two or three bounds 
found himself kneeling beside Snort, who was 
going on awfully. The rain changed to a 
heavy hail and it was hard to tell which made 
the most noise, Snort or the hail, and every 
flash of lightning would bring a squall from 
him. “Whoop ! I knowed it wuz cornin’, ef 
Fd a voted fer Bill this'd never happened, see 
the Lord’s punishment fer it. Pray, Squire, 
pray. Whoop ! Possum, ye’ve been a hard 
sinner an a most ungodly liar all yer life, I 
think yer time has come fer all this an I haf 
ter go with ye, fer bein’ in bad company. 
Whoop! Pray, Squire, pray. Spare poor ole 
‘Gray Eagle,’ Lord, that ole gray hoss acrost 
the road hitched ter the fence, make no mis- 
take an kill him fer anuther one, don’t make 
no difference ’bout the rest what ye do with 


i 


153 


Quaker Jim 

’em. I’ve driv him twenty yar, an’ll driv him 
that many more ef ye say so, it would breck 
my poor ole heart ef he died anything but a 
nachel death. Whoop! Pray, Squire, pray. 
In case ye do see lit ter take one uv ’em, take 
that ole one-eyed mule uv Possum’s, fer he, 
lack his marster, has been a wicked critter 
an’ll be all his life, I reckon. Whoop ! Pray, 
Squire, pray.” Possum cast his little squint 
eyes towards Snort: “Hain’t no use ye askin’ 
the cuss uv the Lord on my mule lease ye air 
sceared. ‘Gray Eagle’ is live yar oldern the 
mule, an age oughter come fust.” “Snort, 
did ent thee tell me some time ago thy horse 
was but seven years of age?” asked the 
Quaker. “ ’Tain’t no time ter talk ’bout bosses’ 
ages now. Whoop! Pray, Squire, pray.” The 
Squire had been kneeling there very pious- 
looking, Snort had called upon him so much 
to pray till he said: ‘Snawt, I’ve prayed, Suh, 
till I’ve run aground and don’t know anutha 
word to say, Suh.” “Start over agin an keep 
a sayin’ ’em over an over till the last one uv 
this infernal hail has drapped, an don’t be 
thinkin’ how ye stole that ’lection frum Bill 
Pearce.” The Quaker was kneeling there try- 
ing to look as pious as the Squire, but it took 
great effort on his part to keep from laughing 
at his brother. Snort had his eyes cast up to- 
wards the floor of the crib during the whole 
time he was going on, finally he gave a quick 
glance around him and saw not only the 
Squire kneeling, but the Quaker and Possum 
as well. “Set down, Possum, ye ole wicked 


154 


Quaker Jim 


cuss, don’t be kneeling up here side uv me, 
yer prayers hain’t no ’count. Whoop ! Pray, 
Squire, pray. ’Tain’t no use uv ye kneelin’ 
thar, Quaker, I can’t hardly understan’ ye my- 
sef, how's the good Lord know what ye say 
when He’s way up in heaven, a place ye’ll 
never be.” “Don’t thee think, friend, if thee 
had that bottle here thee could well fill it with 
lightning now?” the Quaker asked. “Say yer 
prayers in yer own ignant talk an don’t be 
botherin’ me in this trouble.” Snort kept up 
his shouting, but little effect did it seem to have 
upon the storm, on it raged, lightning flashing, 
thunder pealing in deafening sounds and the 
rain, which had changed back from hail, fall- 
ing in torrents. Snort suffered more in these 
fifteen or twenty minutes than at any time 
during his life; nor was the end at hand, for 
what was his mortal dread to see the figure 
of a woman slowly pulling herself along side 
of the wall and gasping for breath at every 
tottering step. She could be seen only from 
the shoulders down, again mismeasuring the 
distance from the floor of the crib to the 
ground, he, in his fearful excitement, thought 
she was headless. With one jerk he whirled 
Possum between himself and the figure, mean- 
time squalling at the top of his voice, “Here, 
Mr. Devil, take him, he’s the one ye want, 
hain’t me, this is the wicked feller.” Just as 
he said this the figure fell with a moan, face 
to the ground. Snort sank down in terror, 
Possum, like a jack rabbit, jumped clear over 
to the other side of the crib. The Quaker, at 




i 


Quaker Jim 


155 


a glance, recognized his Niece, he and Squire 
lifted her under the crib with all possible 
speed. Nellie lay lifeless, her beautiful brown 
hair falling about her face. The good old 
Quaker in the emergency took his hat and 
caught some water falling from the roof, 
bathed her face and forehead till she regained 
consciousness. It took some time, but finally 
her feet and hands began to move, her eyelids 
slowly raised, and she stared about her in a 
bewildering way. Meanwhile Snort and Pos- 
sum had gotten over their fright. Snort leaned 
over his pretty Niece, with an embrace asked 
her: “Nellie, don’t ye know yer poor ole 

Uncle Snort, the most harmless man in the 
world?” No answer came from the lips of 
Nellie, only the same bewildering stare. Pos- 
sum asked her: “Nellie, ye know me, don’ ye? 
I be Possum the Constable, er in tuther words, 
’fender uv the law, an it be me that got Squire 
’lected t’day.” Again no answer came from 
the girl. Squire asked her if she did not know 
him. He received the same as Snort and 
Possum. “Maybe she’ll know ye, Quaker, 
sometimes they recognize queer folks ’fore 
they do their own,” Snort said. The Quaker 
slowly bent over his Niece, who still lay there 
seemingly speechless, and with an all tender 
feeling asked : “Child, dost thee not know thy 
friend?” Her eyes brightened, the smile came 
back. Although much weakened, she caught 
hold of his hand and squeezed it with what 
power she had left. “Mr. Pent,” she faintly 
said, “what are we doing here? There is 


Quaker Jim 


156 

Uncle John. Why was I brought under this 
place?” “Thee was not brought here, child, 
we were under the crib to keep from the rain, 
when thee came along side of the wall and 
fainted, we brought thee under here to revive 
thee and keep thee out of the drenching rain.” 
“How long have I been here, and where did I 
come from?” “Where thee come from I know 
not, but thee hast been here about ten minutes. 
Thee art wet, child. Thee must have been out 
in all that fain, where wast thee going, and 
what brought thee out in that storm?” The 
fact fell heavily upon Snort’s mind now, lie 
feared great trouble had taken place between 
his Niece and Mandy. He upbraided himself 
bitterly for not staying home with Nellie. 
Snort said to her: “What’s the matter at 

home, honey, has Mandy done anything ter 
ye?” At the mention of Mandy ’s name every- 
thing came back to Nellie. The abuse she had 
received, her wandering away, her intentions 
to go to Bertha’s, her abstractly getting on 
the wrong road, the storm coming upon her 
and how she attempted to get to the Pearce 
home. With a look of worry and distress at 
her Uncle she exclaimed : “Oh, Uncle John, 

why did you leave me this morning in that 
woman’s hands. Why am I so terribly tor- 
mented by her? All day she has been tearing 
at the roots of my heart, I could not stand it 
longer. I am sorry I done what I did, but I 
could not help it, Uncle John, my nerves were 
unstrung and to stay there longer would have 
run me mad. I must go away where I won’t 


Quaker Jim 


157 


bother her any more, I can go to Bertha’s, and 
if you will give me your permission I won't 
trouble Aunt Mandy again.” “Nellie, darlin’. 
ye mus’ent think I want ye ter go, it would 
kill me ter see ye leave, don’t pay no ’tention 
ter Mandy, she’s gittin’ ole and sorter foolish.” 
“I seem to be a source of trouble to her, Uncle 
John, she says my ways will lay her in her 
grave ; if I had done anything to make her feel 
ashamed of me I could not blame her, but you 

1 ' • 

know I hav’ent, and I think it better to go.” 
“No, ye mus’ent, Nellie, it would’ent be doin’ 
me justice fer ye ter go, kase I think more uv 
ye than anybody, an I’d never spend anuther 
happy minute long as ye wuz gone. I had one 
near and dear ter me driv away, and the Good 
Marster knows I don’t want ye.” “Yes, and 
if that brother was here now, she would’ent 
impose upon me like she does, Uncle John.” 
“No, darlin’, I know she would’ent, but ye 
know I’m powerless afore her.” True were 
these words. Although John had the wealth 
when they married, still, little by little, she 
gained a gripping hand upon him, till she had 
him fast, nor could he loosen it without adding 
shame and scandal to the Fox generation, 
something he had rather died than do. Never 
had a Fox in the whole line of descendants 
faced a judge in a divorce suit or any other 
suit that involved his good name, nor did he 
want to be the first to get into this much- 
practised predicament. 

Would it do for the Quaker to make known 
his identity now? His heart was almost 


158 


Quaker Jim 


broken to see his Niece lying there pleading 
with her Uncle to permit her to go away from 
her home, and when he saw tears come into 
Snort’s eyes as he was begging with his Niece 
not to go, did a pang of tender pity arise 
within him, for he saw his brother had a 
greater love for Nellie than he had ever an- 
ticipated. The terrible fact which he surmised 
dawned upon him of the cruel treatment by 
Mandy of his Niece. At the first impulse his 
just anger prompted him to make himself 
known and take Nellie away where Mandy 
would never see her again. Before him a 
vision of Bob Tharpe arose, he thought of the 
love Bob bore for his Niece, he thought of the 
gentlemanly spirit that flowed in his manly 
veins. Could he not go with them? Yes, but 
could Snort, who had just manifested his great 
fondness for her? At more deliberate thought 
he resolved to continue in his course to bring 
back Mandy to that lovely woman she once 
was. He thought of the hard and troublesome 
task before him. Although having great hopes 
of success he knew not what the outcome 
would be, and thus he cried out: “O Humil- 

ity! Humility! Foundation of wisdom, why 
was thee not laid deep in the heart of man so 
the tempest of Pride could not sway thee from 
thy bed?” Looking at Nellie with eyes of 
love he said to her: “Child, won’t thee go 

back with thy Uncle? I, thy friend, ask it of 
thee?” “Yes, Mr. Pent, for your sake and 
Uncle John’s I will.” “That is a good child, 


Quaker Jim 159 

rest assured thy troubles will soon be at an 
end.” 

'fhe storm had passed, the setting sun 
peeped from behind the broken clouds, as Nel- 
lie, who had now regained sufficient strength 
to raise herself from her bed of earth, walked 
between her two Uncles to the buggy. “Tell 
ye what tis,” said Possum to Squire after they 
had resumed their journey, “that’s the wust 
sperience I ever had.” “Me, too, Suh, me too, 
and I hope we nevah have anuthah like it, 
Suh.” “Snort wuz sceared bodaciously ter 
death.” “Yes, Suh, and kept aftah me to pray 
instead of himself, I Avas amused at him as 
well as frightened, Suh.” “Ding-be-dinged, if 
he war’ent white as a sheet, an I do b’live ef 
the whole kitlin’ an bilin’ had a been killed he 
would’enter knowed it bit morn Bill knowed 
how he got beat.” “No, Suh, nor would he 
have ca’hd so he got out alive himself.” The 
party went on till they came to the poor house 
road, where Possum turned off to go to his 
home. The Quaker wanted to get off at his 
store, but at the earnest solicitations of Nellie 
and Snort he went on to the Fox homestead. 
Arriving there, the Squire bid them good- 
evening and proceeded on his way up the pike 
to his house. Mandy was sitting in the parlor 
weeping when the Quaker, Snort and Nellie 
entered. She went up and embraced Nellie, 
who showed signs of fear at the approach of 
her Aunt. “Poor chile, whar have ye been in 
all this here storm ? My heart’s bleedin’ 
thinkin’ uv ye, why did’ent ye tell me whar ye 


i6o 


Quaker Jim 


wuz agoin’? Yc mout a knowed the storm 
wuz acomin’.” How well Nellie knew this 
was but deceit to baffle the Ouaker, but on her 
way home she had made up her mind that she 
would suffer anything for her Uncle John's 
sake and until the Ouaker had fulfilled his 
promise. Therefore she remained silent. The 
Quaker explained to Mandy what has been re- 
lated, and Mandy broke forth into another 
shower of tears that even caused a smile to 
spread itself upon the Quaker’s face. He told 
Mandy to dry her eyes, that Nellie was feeling 
very well and as no one was hurt she should 
rejoice instead of weeping. 

The Ouaker instructed Nellie to remain out 
of the parlor during the evening as he wished 
to speak to Mandy and Snort alone. “I will 
follow your will in everything, Mr. Pent, if 
you assist me out of this trouble.” “That I 
have promised, child, but thee must have pa- 
tience ; it takes time to accomplish things like 
this, as I told thee before, don’t give up, it 
may appear to thee that all hope is lost of 
succeeding before 1 get Mrs. Fox to consent 
to thy marriage ; when I have finished, child, 
thee will see my object in detaining thee.” 
Nellie did as the man bid and did not come 
into the parlor after supper. The polite and 
Christianly way the Quaker treated Mandy 
led her to believe he thought much of her as 
a good Christianly woman, and she immediate- 
ly began to pour forth her troubles to him, 
just the thing he desired, for he wanted to 
bring her out as much as possible and in the 


Quaker Jim 


161 


meantime tried to persuade her to give Nellie 
her free will concerning who she married. He 
also wished to hear Snort’s opinion on the sub- 
ject in the presence of his wife. “I jest tell ye 
what it be, Mr. Pent, thar hain't nobody knows 
what I got ter go through wuth.” “Some 
women’s troubles are many, Mrs. Fox, but I 
would think thee had not so much worry, thee 
have a beautiful home, and I know thy hus- 
band is good to thee.” “Yes, I must say John 
treats me purty good,” said Mandy, looking at 
her husband. “What more could thee wish 
to be blessed with?” “So fer that’s all right, 
Mr. Pent, but when ye’ve got someone that 
jest wants ter act opsit ter ye, then the shoe 
pinches where thar hain’t no corn er not, I 
kin tell ye.” “That is true ; but, pray, who acts 
contrary to thee in this house?” “Wa’al Pm 
a person that don’t say much.” Snort gave a 
grunt, “though I thought as Nellie lacks ye 
purty well, it would’ent be outen place fer me 
ter ax ye ter use yer ’fluence towards gitten 
her ter do what I think best.” “What dost 
thee wish me to do?” “It’s jest this, I want 
ye ter git her outen the notion uv marryin’ 
Bob Tharpe.” “Is she engaged to Mr. 
Tharpe?” “Not that I knows on, I think she’s 
mouty pevish ’bout him, though, an ye know 
it’d never do fer a gal uv Nellie’s standin’ ter 
mix up wuth a feller lack him.” “Is’ent Mr. 
Tharpe a gentleman?” “He be in his class, 
I reckon, but that’s only middlin’, an ye know 
I want her ter git somebody that’s in her 
s’ciety.” The Quaker knew exactly who she 


Quaker Jim 


162 

had in mind, nevertheless, he asked her the 
question, “Who, Mrs. Fox, dost thee think 
would be a suitable companion for thy Niece?” 
“Why, Mr. Alten, fer one, would’ent he John?” 
“Sceared ter say,” promptly answered Snort. 
“Does Mr. Alten wish Nellie’s company?” 
“Why uv course he does, an’d marry her ter- 
morror ef she said so.” “How long have thee 
been acquainted with this gentleman?” “Sence 
about the time ye come here.” “Thee hast 
knowed Mr. Tharpe from childhood?” “Yes, 
I packed the little whelp in my arms.” “Thee 
can speak nothing against the man, except he 
is not in thy Niece's standing?” “Wa'al he 
shorely hain’t genteel, er he would’ent wanter 
’sociate wuth folks he knows be beyond him.” 
“Could thee blame one for trying to elevate 
himself?” “No, not in a business way, but let 
him do that fust an then talk ter gals uv high 
class.” “Do thee know Mr. Alten to be a 
gentleman?” “I’m as shore as I be settin’ 
right here, that he is the most genteel man I 
ever seed in these parts.” “Sometimes people 
pretend to be gentlemen when they are noth- 
ing but wolves in sheep’s clothes.” “That’s 
all good enuf, Mr. Pent, but when ever Mandy 
Fox sets her eyes on a man she knows him ter 
a dot, an don’t ye fergit it.” “Most women’s 
idea of men lies with the clothes and looks 
nowadays.” “Hain't me, I kin tell ye, while I 
lack a man that dresses nice, still I look at 
their sociality.” “What dost thee think, Mr. 
Fox, of thy Niece’s company?” “Quaker, I 
be a man that thinks jest this way, so long as 


Quaker Jim 



163 

the man she goes wuth is a nice gentleman I 
don’t ker whether he be wuth fifty million 
dollars er fifty cents, nobody oughter ’fere 
wuth her, an so fer as I’m consarned I druther 
see her marry Tharpe than Alten, kase I know 
Bob, an I don’t know nuthin’ ’bout tuther 
critter, he mout be a hoss thief fer all I know.” 
“Did’ent ye jest hear me say he is all right?” 
put in Mandy. “Ye sayin’ so don’t make it 
thater way.” “Wuz’ent I jest tellin’ ye I 
knowed a man soon’s I sot my eye on him, 
then ye ’spute my word? Do ye think yer wife 
would tell ye a bare face lie?” “I don’t think 
ye mean at all ter tell a lie, but when ye set up 
ter tell me ye know a gentleman the fust time 
ye meet him ye air wrong, kase they air too 
much lack Injuns an wild cats nowadays, they 
air sneakin’.” “All right then, ye know it all, 
my word hain’t no ’count.” “Mrs. Fox,” in- 
terrupted the Quaker, “don’t thee think like 
thy husband it would be well to let thy Niece 
choose the husband, even though he be not 
wealthy, so long as he is a respected gentle- 
man; who can say aught against him?” “I 
know, Mr. Pent, I know it would be pitched in 
my face in less than a week, ‘yer Niece had ter 
marry a poor workin’ feller.’ ” “People who 
have a temperament like that are not worthy 
to be called genteel, nor are thee going to find 
any lady or gentleman, whether rich or poor, 
say such a thing.” “It makes no difference, 
Mr. Pent, I ’sist Nellie marry that’s her equal 
er stay as she be.” “I would like to see Nellie 
do well, Mrs. Fox, and if thee think Mr. Alten 


164 


Quaker Jim 


suitable compare for the child I will do my 
best to encourage the union for thy sake." '‘I 
will thank ye, Mr. Pent, wuth all uv my whole 
heart ef ye do, lease I know ye air a friend uv 
mine an ye wanter see me happy. Hear that 
John? Why don’t ye be a man lack him?" 
“Ye know what I tole ye afore, Mandy, it 
hain’t none uv my business ter meddle, an I 
hain’t agoin’ ter do it.” The Quaker went 
home that night with the conclusion that 
Mandy was determined to have her way, while 
John placed his confidence in the good sound 
judgment of Nellie. This determined him all 
the more to bring Mandy out of these foolish 
notions, and give to his Niece her heart’s de- 
sire. He had made up his mind to humor 
Mandy in these whims for a while that he 
may be able to bring about his object as soon 
as possible. That was the reason of this 
fictitious promise to persuade Nellie to accept 
Alten. He reasonably expected Alten had 
some object in view to put Bob in disfavor 
with Nellie and thus leave him the only suitor. 
In the meantime he must w'atch and wait till 
he tried to do it, then he could come out and 
show Mandy what his purpose was and by her 
thinking so much of Alten, the embarrassment 
would perhaps change her whole life and he 
would make himself known to them so they all 
could live in happiness the remaining few 
years they would spend upon this earth. 


Quaker Jim 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Summer with its beautiful flowers and green 
leaved trees gave place to autumn, which with 
chilled winds and biting frosts cast a golden 
gloom over summer’s sweet nature. Autumn 
passed dolefully away into cold and frozen 
winter, leaving the roads covered with ice and 
snow, making travel difficult to those who had 
been allotted by Divine Providence to make 
their abode in the scattered and silent coun- 
try. Still nothing had materialized at the Fox 
homestead. Bob held his position. The 
Quaker lay in wait for an opportunity to free 
the victims of Mandy’s wrath. Alten had not 
proven a thing to dishonor Bob, while Mandy 
watched and expected every day for the charge 
to show itself. Nellie had not left the house 
a half dozen times since the aforesaid incident 
and only then to slightly speak to Bob. 

Alten sat in his room one night studying 
over his chance to accomplish his ends. “It 
seems to me I’ve been in this wild country 
long enough, if I stay here much longer, I will 
die of melancholy. 1 wonder how Miss Gray’s 
g;etting along? I will go over there to-night 
and see how things look, yes, and I will pro- 
pose to her too. If I ever do anything it may 
as well be now, will she accept me? Couldn't 


Quaker Jim 


i 66 

say, Leslie, old boy, she seems to think a great 
deal of Tharpe. Pshaw ! That's nothing, that 
old woman's backing me, Lord bless her silly 
soul, she will talk her into it, in fact I think 
she will see where she can never marry this 
fellow and will be only too glad to take me. 
If she don't? Well, look out Tharpe for your 
job and good name, too. I hate to, but it will 
be the only thing left for me to do. When I’m 
through I’ll bet ten thousand dollars against 
one of Snort’s imaginary wild cats, he won't 
be called the honest Mr. Tharpe. Let me see, 
it is just seven now, I can get there by eight, 
that's soon enough, the old lady will have her 
ready in fifteen minutes, that will leave me 
plenty of time to tell her how much I love the 
ground she walks upon.” Alten told the Squire 
he was going over to Fox’s for a while, not 
to be alarmed if he came back scalped. Eight 
o’clock found him at the door of Nellie’s home. 
He was promptly ushered in by Mandy and 
as he said but fifteen minutes had elapsed till 
he and Nellie were alone in the parlor. He 
settled right down to business at once. “Miss 
Nellie I have been thinking of you constantly 
since we first met. I have tried every way to 
banish my thoughts, the more I try the more 
I think of you. Nellie, I love you, will you 
marry me?” Nellie looked at him and her 
eyes seemed to sparkle with pitiable contempt. 
“Mr. Alten that can never be.” “Why Nellie 
my love, have I done anything to make you 
dislike me?” “No, Mr. Alten I can never 
marry but the man I love.” “Then you don’t 


Quaker Jim 


167 


love me?” “I do not.” “Who do you love?” 
“That’s a question you have no right to ask.” 
Alten’s anger knew no bounds, he rose from 
his chair and in a loud tone which he thought 
would reach Mandy’s ears, said: “I insist you 
tell me the man you love.” In defiance Nellie 
answered, “I insist I will not; if you wish to 
stay in my presence Mr. Alten calm yourself 
and be seated.” Alten sat down, his better 
senses telling him to stay on friendly terms 
with Nellie. ”1 beg your pardon, Miss Gray, 
my love is so great for you that I forgot my- 
self, I assure you it will never happen again.” 
“Pardon is granted Mr. Alten.” “I know I 
shouldn’t have done this, it will make you have 
an ill feeling against me and justly so.” “My 
feeling will remain what it has ever been Mr. 
Alten.” “What are your feelings toward me, 
if it is not asking too much?” “An acquaint- 
ance.” “Not even as a friend?” “It takes a 
longer time than six months’ acquaintance to 
know your friends.” “Miss Nellie you won’t 
tell me who you love, but I know, it is Mr. 
Tharpe.” “If you knew, it wasn’t necessary 
to ask me.” “Now listen to me, your Aunt 
is opposed to you keeping company with 
Tharpe. It is me she wants you to marry, look 
at Tharpe’s position in life and look at mine, 
I am worth thousands of dollars, where he is 
worth nothing. I came from an illustrious fam- 
ily, he has no name, that is why your dear 
Aunt wishes our marriage. Don’t be stubborn 
Nellie; consider all of this and follow your 
Aunt’s wishes.” “Mr. Alten what I have said 


Quaker Jim 


i 63 

is final.” “You will change your mind about 
Tharpe in less than a month, he is not what 
he pretends to be and you will see it come 
out.” “I have known Mr. Tharpe from child- 
hood and have always found him a gentleman.” 
“And me?” “So far as I know apparently you 
are." “You will see I am your friend, while 
Tharpe is not.” “Time will tell.” In leaving 
the house Alten slipped a bracelet that lay 
on the table in his pocket, unnoticed by Nellie. 
He went direct to his room, when he reached 
the Squire’s home, pulled a chair before the 
fire and taking the bracelet from his pocket 
carefully examined it. Tie found it to be of 
old style with the initials M. B. mounted upon 
a plate of gold. M. B. Who could that belong 
to? Couldn't be Nellie. “By Jacks you have 
it boy, that’s the old lady’s name, Mandy 
Boone. Luck’s with you, just what I wanted. 
Why this is a keep sake, she wouldn’t take 
five hundred dollars for it I am sure, when she 
misses this, Good Bye Tharpe. If I can get it 
in his possession it will knock the bottom out 
of his stock in the girl. It may be missed by to- 
morrow so I must get rid of it quickly as pos- 
sible. But how am I to get it where I can 
prove Tharpe has it? Rack your brain Leslie, 
or Possum will be on your track before tomor- 
row night. Who could I get to conceal the 
thing in Tharpe’s house. That Quaker would- 
’ent do it, he is too honest. Possum knows the 
thing he won’t do. Old Teebe ! That’s the 
fellow don't know A from B, five dollars would 
look like a mint to him. I will see him in the 


Quaker Jim 


169 


morning, every thing is all right, don’t have 
to take another thing, but just wait for the 
old lady to hollow and then show Tharpe up. 
Bragge you are a nasty boy, can’t help it 
though I must not let that fellow stand in my 
way, it may be better for him anyhow he will 
leave the country and perhaps get a good posi- 
tion some other place for he certainly is an 
honest fellow and after I have gotten even 
with Mr. Gray I will restore the poor man’s 
good name and let him take the girl if he 
wants her.” Next morning Alten went back to 
Fox’s. As they say the “Man with the Horns” 
never allows an evil deed to slip by, he surely 
tempted Teebe to walk out on the road for 
there’s where Alten found him as he neared 
Snort’s farm. “Hello, Teebe old man, how are 
you?” “Who be ye?” “I am Alten.” “Ye 
air the feller Mandy talks so much about, she 
must think ye powerful smart, lease she’s goin' 
on ’bout ye frum one days end ter tuther.” 
“Is that so?” “Now fer me anybody Mandy 
thinks smart I don’t, kase she hain’t smart. 
Even the old idiot knows she is silly,” mused 
Alten. “Say, Teebe, I have a proposition to 
make.” “A what?” “Proposition.” “I don’t 
know what that be. I know what a clothes 
prop is, 'bout the sition I don’t know. Is that 
a new kind.” “That is not what I mean, I want 
to give you some money.” “Hand it here.” 
“Can you read?” Alten thought he would be 
on the safe side and find out for sure whether 
he could read or not. “No that’s fer people 
that don’t know nuthin’. I know enuf without 


170 


Quaker Jim 


readin’.” Alten drew the bracelet from his 
pocket and asked Teefye, “Can you tell me 
what those letters are?*’ “I told ye I did’ent 
know one letter frum tuther an went ter school 
three months once, what do ye think uv that?” 
“You are a bright fellow Teebe.” “I uster 
know the A, B, C's, long time ago, I done for- 
got ’em now.” Teebe carefully examined the 
bracelet and said : “That looks lack the thing 
Mandy uster wear on her arm.” “I want to 
play a joke on Mrs. Fox and Bob Tharpe, will 
you help me Teebe?” “I’ll do anything ter 
spite Mandy.” “Will you take this bracelet, 
slip over to Tharpe’s house and hide it where 
he can’t find it?” “Will that make Mandy 
mad?” “Yes, we will have a barrel of fun out 
of her, you know Mrs. Fox does’ent like Bob, 
neither does he like Mandy, she will think Bob 
stold it, and she will get awfully angry, when 
she goes to looking for it, don’t say a thing 
till I tell you, then you must tell her you saw 
Bob take it off the table in the parlor, you fol- 
lowed him, saw where he put it and that he 
made you promise not to tell.” “Bob won’t 
lack me any more if I do that.” “O yes he will 
laugh himself to death when he hears of it.” 
“All right Fll do it jest ter git Mandy mad.” 
“There is one thing Teebe.” “What’s that?” 
“You must never tell I gave you the bracelet, 
not even after we give it back.” “I won’t.” 
“I will give you five dollars now, and if you 
don’t tell it in a year I will give you ten more.” 
“I will never tell long as I live fer the tuther 
ten dollars.” “All right you shall have it,” Al- 


Quaker Jim 


171 

ten told him placing a five dollar gold piece 
in his hand, '‘go ahead now and hide the brace- 
let at Tharpe’s right away.” Alten went home 
chuckling to himself over his triumph. “Why 
even if that old fellow does tell on me, no one 
will believe him and if he has got memory 
enough to keep in mind where he put that 
thing, it will be all up with Tharpe, Nellie 
will think him a crook and will pass him by 
for Mr. Alten. After all I think things are 
running smoothly for me and it will be but 
a short time until I can go home with the sat- 
isfaction of getting square with Mr. Gray.” 
Teebe walked down the pike in the direction 
of Tharpe’s when he left Alten. On his way he 
had many pleasant thoughts of what he would 
do with the five dollars, it was the most money 
he ever possessed at one time as Snort never 
allowed him anything much because he did not 
know the value of a dollar and it was an easy 
thing for the smallest boy to get what he had 
for a trifle. “Snort won’t git this money frum 
me,” Teebe said to himself, “I will bury it in 
the orchid where no one can find it, an when 
that feller gives me the tuther money I’ll put 
it all tergether and buy fifteen dollars wuth 
uv shootin’-crackers fer Christmas. Old Mandy 
won’t think she’s so much when I git all uv 
my money, she’ll be glad ter talk ter me then, 
fer she’ll want a Christmas gift an I won’t 
give her none. I’ll buy ’em shootin’ crackers 
an me an Nellie’ll have a fine time.” Teebe 
was stalking along thinking of his much prized 
five dollars when he came to a sudden stop. 


172 


Quaker Jim 


“ I wonder how it’d be ter play a joke on Alten. 
Ef I’d take this thing ter the Quaker instid uv 
Tharpe’s I’d fool him an Mandy both, an 
maybe he’d give me a whole lots uv money. 
I b’live I’ll do that. The Ouaker won’t tell, an 
when Alten tells Mandy 1 know whar the 
bracelet be I’ll say its over ter Tharpe’s, when 
they go over thar an don't find it I’ll tell ’em 
the Quaker’s got it. It’ll make him laugh an 
he’ll give me more than ten dollars, maybe a 
million. It takes me ter fool ’em. Alten thinks 
lie’s havin’ fun with Mandy and when he sees 
I fooled him an Mandy both, he’ll say, I’m a 
bright feller, lack he did when I wuz talkin’ 
ter him.” 

Teebe hastened his steps towards the Qua- 
ker’s, counting hastily the dollars he would 
gain when Alten found out the joke he had 
played on him. The Quaker could not under- 
stand what brought the broad smile to Teebe’s 
face as he entered the door. “Good mornin’ 
funny talkin’ man.” “Good morning to thee 
Teebe, thee dost seem to be in a good humor 
this morning.” “Sh ! I’m agoin’ ter play a joke 
on a feller an I think he’ll give me a whole lot 
uv money fer it.” “Who is the joke on Teebe?” 
“That feller Alten, he wants ter play one on 
Mandy an I’m goin’ ter play it on both uv ’em.” 
“What is it Teebe?" Teebe went on to explain 
the proposition of Alten and when he had fin- 
ished, he asked the Quaker, “Won’t ye keep 
the bracelet fer me, till I tell ye I want it an 
not tell any body at all?” “Yes, Teebe, I will 
be glad to help thee have fun with Alten.” 


Quaker Jim 


173 

/ 

Teebe pulled the bracelet from his pocket, all 
the time laughing at his own shrewdness. The 
Quaker looked at it and knew at once it was 
a birthday present from Snort to Mandy before 
their marriage. “Now don’t ye say nuthin’ till 
I come arter the thing, an I’ll give ye a nickel.” 
“I won’t, good man.” “I promised Alten I’d 
tell nobody an I hain’t ’ceptin’ ye, kase he give 
me five dollars not ter tell.” “Alten wanted 
thee to hide it at Tharpe’s?” “Yes, an I know 
he'd give me more money ef I brung it here, 
kase Mandy an Bob don’t git along very well, 
so I thought she mout git mad at Alten fer 
sendin’ me thar wuth it, an he’d have no fun.” 
“All right, Teebe, thee and me will see that 
Alten has much fun out of it.” Teebe went 
home to bury his money, and left in the 
Ouaker’s hand the material for the downfall of 
Alten. “Just as I thought, a scheme to get 
Bob discharged, how foolish to place this in 
Teebe’s hands, a cunning young man indeed, 
when he might have known Teebe’s mind is 
like the wind, constantly changing. At last, 
Mandy Fox, I will be able to show your doted 
friend’s true character. I will rejoice for the 
moment to come when he will accuse Bob 
Tharpe of this crime of theft, then, Nellie, 
your day of redemption will be at hand, and I 
will make known the truth of Henry Alten’s 
visit to Kentucky.” 

Bob had not talked to Nellie for weeks, and 
the few times he did see her, she spoke to him 
so faintly, he even at times doubted the sin- 
cerity of her love. “What can it mean,” he 


174 Quaker Jim 

would often think, “does she love Alten? Has 
her love for me passed away? I don’t under- 
stand why she never comes out to see me. 
Mrs. Fox has forbidden her, I am sure, her 
insisting on Alten’s visits may have changed 
Nellie and she may consider our love only as 
that of childhood days, though the Quaker 
tells me she still loves me and no matter what 
happens we will yet be unitea. The question 
is, that old fellow only believes this from the 
bottom of his heart and there may be no foun- 
dation whatever for the unity. I am quite 
sure Alten is contriving against me in some 
manner, and it’s very probable he will be suc- 
cessful, for he has the backing of Mrs. Fox 
and possibly Uncle Snort. I don’t think his 
money would amount to mucti with Nellie, 
but I do think Mandy has talked her into the 
belief that I am not in her social standing. 
Probably not Nellie, but I will never forget 
your words on the afternoon you promised to 
be my wife. ‘I love you and no one can ever 
come between us.’ Nellie, I do believe you, 
I will put away this idea you love Alten and 
remain faithful to your word until I do really 
see you marry another man. Perhaps you 
know, as you stand in a better position to find 
things out than I. I must in the future refrain 
from these sad thoughts and think of the time 
she will be mine, ‘until death do us part.’ ” As 
these thoughts were passing through Bob’s 
mind, so thoughts were passing through the 
worried mine of the girl he loved. How she 
felt for him tongue can never tell, and how she 


Quaker Jim 


175 


bravely struggled through this lapse of six 
months without saying anything to him and 
only to hear him abused on every occasion by 
Mandy was a marvel for a girl of her tender 
disposition, and it showed what woman can 
endure for man. On the one hand the man 
had at times doubted the woman’s love, while 
on the other she never had a single mistrust 
of his word, but, oh, how she longed for the 
day to come that she may show her tender 
love for him and in return receive his love and 
manly protection so much sought for by the 
good and true woman. Nellie’s thoughts were 
constantly upon Bob. In her work, in the 
company room, in her prayers, and even in her 
sleep she could see nothing but the hard and 
honest working Bob, who had been an ever- 
faithful friend to her. It seemed bitter indeed 
that she must be kept away from him by the 
one who had helped to rear him. She, like 
Bob, had commenced to think the Quaker had 
no way of bringing about the marriage only by 
his determined confidence in being able to beg 
Mandy into it, something she thought he could 
never do, still was there not a possible chance 
left. Where was Uncle James? “If he be 
alive,” Nellie thought on day, “I will find him. 
I will write to the authorities at Louisville, 
they can locate him for me, I will ask him to 
come home for my sake. He won’t refuse my 
request, for I am sure he will come and restore 
peace, or at least bring about a satisfactory 
way for Bob and I not to be hampered by 
Aunt Mandy.” She accordingly wrote a letter 


176 Quaker Jim 

to the proper officials. After a short while she 
received an answer, stating his last known 

residence was in , Louisiana, and a 

letter forwarded to that place might reach 
him. 

A welcome and fondly thought of friend in 
the person of Bertha paid Nellie a visit dur- 
ing this time, and it lent a great relief to the 
broken heart of the mind-burdened girl. How 
glad she was to see the sister of her promised 
husband. “Bertha !” Nellie exclaimed, “where 
have you been so long that you never come to 
see me?” “Nellie, I would have come many 
times since summer, but you know?” “Yes, 
I know,” Nellie answered, and hung her head 
in shame for the actions of her Aunt towards 
Bertha’s brother. “Never mind, Nellie, we 
shall take no notice of that.” “I wish I 
could’ent.” “You have not been well, Nellie?” 
“No, I hav’ent felt very good for some time.” 
Bertha noticed the sunken cheeks and pale 
color that rested upon the grieved girl’s face. 
“What troubles you, Nellie?” “I cannot tell 
you, Bertha, though I would like to.” Bertha 
did not understand Nellie of late, it seemed 
quite strange for Nellie not to answer her 
questions, for Bertha was accustomed to have 
her full confidence as she gave Nellie hers, and 
it made her ask the question: “Nellie, why 

don’t you tell me what your troubles are"? 
Have you no confidence in me?” “All in the 
world, Bertha, I would tell you anything, but 
this one, I have promised, nor can I retract 
my words.” Nellie’s friend knew it would be 


Quaker Jim 177 

useless to insist further for she was aware her 
promise was a sacred truth she never revealed. 
Mandy came into the room where the two 
girls were and took her seat. “Good-evenin’ 
ter ye, Bertha.” “Good-evening, Mrs. Fox.” 
“How be ye lately?” “I have been quite well, 
Mrs. Fox, I thank you, how is your health?” 
“Jes’ middlin’, sorter had fluenzie er hay fever, 
as ye mout call it.” “That is not a pleasant 
thing to have.” “No, specially when ye got a 
sight more trouble ter ’tend ter than ye kin 
stand up under ’sides.” “Everyone has 
troubles more or less.” “I know they do, but 
mine air twice foie an two.” “Do you have 
many troubles, Mrs. Fox? Nellie looks like 
she is worrying over something?” “Laws yes, 
chile, an Nellie be the lease uv ’em all.” “She 
does not look healthy.” “No, an it’s jest 
botherin’ me ter death. I can’t unerstan’ what 
the trouble be, I want her ter go ter the doc- 
tors, but she says he kin do her no good. Ef 
she don’t show ’provement purty soon, Fm 
agoin’ ter git John ter take her an see what he 
says, kase it’ll kill me shortly ef she don’t do 
sumpin’.” “Why don’t you consult a physi- 
cian, Nellie?” “I will be all right in a short 
time, Bertha, it won’t be long till you see me 
again like I was.” Bertha knew Mandy and 
Nellie were not on the most agreeable terms 
and it made her sad to think her brother was 
the principal cause, she knew Mandy had a 
dislike for him, while MN'ie thought much of 
Bob, though never once had it entered her 
mind that Nellie loved him. “Ye see it’s this 


178 Quaker Jim 

away, Bertha, sometimes I think Nellie’s takin 
the ’sumption, an ef she’d start now he’d rid 
the monstrous ’sease frum her system.” “1 
don’t think it is consumption, Mrs. Fox.” 
“Wa’al what ye think it be?” “I believe she 
is a little worried over something, and if she 
would go out more I think she would get bet- 
ter.” “I tole her that wuth nobody’s mouth 
but my own tuther day, an thar's Mr. Alten’d 
be glad ter take her drivin’ any time. She 
won’t go, though ; I think it would be so nice, 
as he be so much ’taclied ter her, don’t ye, 
Bertha?” “Yes, it would be well for her to 
get the fresh air.” “Now why don’t ye go 
’long, Nellie, see everbody tells ye the same as 
what I do. Ef ve'll promise ter take a ride 
wuth Mr. Alten termorror, I’ll send Sarah over 
tliar right away an he’ll be sartin ter come.” 
“I will go with Uncle John, but never with 
Henry Alten.” “That’s the way she be, 
Bertha, John's got no time much, whar Mr. 
Alten has, ye know lie's up here fer his health 
an it would look eddifyin’ ter see the two sick 
folks out tergether fer their health.” “I wish 
1 had some one to be so kind to me,” Bertha 
answered. “Nellie don't preshate friends, ef 
she don't lack ’em they could work their heads 
off ter please her an she would’ent turn her 
hand over ter make ’em feel happy.” “I told 
you once, Aunt Mandy, I want nothing to do 
with that man, and it vexes me for you to in- 
sist on his taking me anywhere.” “All right, 
then, jest set here an die, kill yer poor ole 
Aunt wuth ye an then ye’ll be sorry ye did’ent 


Quaker Jim 


179 


take my ’vice.” “Your advice may be well, 
Aunt Mandy, his company is not.” “I have 
no more ter say, do as ye please lack ye al- 
ways done.” Bertha stayed with Nellie the 
entire afternoon and Uncle Snort took her 
home in the buggy. They were driving along 
at the usual gate “Gray Eagle” was accus- 
tomed to go when Snort asked : “Bertha, what 
ye think ails the little gal?” “I could not say, 
Mr. Fox, unless she is housed too' closely.” 
“I thought she mout uv tole ye, we ask her 
every day an she says thar’s nuthin’ the mat- 
ter with her. It’s kinder got yer Uncle Snort 
sceard. Ye little rascal, I know she tole ye, 
an if ye let me know jest what it be I won’t 
say a word, pawn my honor.” “Mr. Fox, I 
asked her this afternoon, she told me she could 
not tell, though if you want my candid opinion 
I can give it to you.” “Fess have her ’canned’ 
or loose.” “It is this, I think Nellie is terribly 
worried over something.” “What ye think it 
be?” “I am not able to answer.” “Ef ye 
wanter know what I think on it I b’live she’s 
smartly worked up over Bob.” “What?” 
“Yes, indeed, shore as ye born, that gal thinks 
more on him than she lets on.” “Why, Mr. 
Fox?” “Mr. Nuthin ; ef I war put on the stand 
I’d swar by all the wild cats that ever trod the 
tree limbs uv Amerikie, that she be smartly 
wrapped up in Bob.” “I know Nellie likes 
him as a friend, you may say as a sister, but to 
love him I can’t believe it.” “Ye’ll see, I 
reckon I may as wells tell ye, kase ye know 
it anyhow, Mandy don’t lack Bob much an 


i8o 


Quaker Jim 


ferbid Nellie goin’ with him, an I think it’s 
the lease uv the whole business.” “If that is 
the case it may have something to do with it, 
though, Mr. Fox, upon my word, neither Nellie 
or Bob has said a word to me about it, and I 
really think it is just an idea of yours.” “It 
mout be, but do ye think ef ye had luck enuf 
ter git a feller ye’d run aroun’ an tell ever 
Dick, Tom an Harry ye wuz fixiir up ter git 
married?” “I would’ent say anything if I even 
had the chance to get Possum.” “Or the 
Quaker,” put in Snort. “It be only a specion 
uv mine, an jest keep yer mouth shet till ye 
really see what turns out.” “No, Sir, I am 
going bo have it published to-morrow, Mr. 
Fox.” “Ef ye do I'll not let yer ride behind 
this fast hoss no more, an anuther thing, I’ll 
tell everbody ye bussed me.” “Tell it an Mrs. 
Fox will make it warm for you.” “Gret snort- 
in’ Injuns, I fergot all about her, I hain’t got a 
word ter say, ye gals kin always think uv 
things ter git the best uv the old man nowa- 
days.” “If Nellie did love Bob, as you think, 
I don’t see why Mrs. Fox should object.” 
“Mandy’s giftin' high notions these days, fust 
she wants one thing then tuther, nuthin’ don’t 
seem ter please her.” “Not you?” Bertha 
asked in jest. “No, ner me nuther. It looks 
lack she’s tryin’ ter bile plum over the top uv 
the kittle an I reckon she’ll do it if she goes on 
a little further.” “Mrs. Fox is getting old, 
you have to look over a great many of her 
faults." “ ’Pears she oughter have more sense 
now then when she wuz young, most people 


Quaker Jim 


181 


’pear ter be settled at her age.” “Perhaps she 
will get over this in a few years, and the rest 
of her life she may spend to make you all 
happy for the trouble she is causing you now?” 
“I hope so, Bertha. Wo! Gray Eagle, ye grass 
pickin’ critter, we air home.” “Won’t you 
come in, Mr. Fox?” “No, I’m bleeged ter ye, 
Bertha, I must be gittin’ back.” “I am thank- 
ful to you, Mr. Fox, for bringing me home.” 
“It’s all right, Bertha, glad ter do it any time. 
Come ter see us soon.” “I will. Good-night, 
Mr. Fox.” “Good-bye, Bertha.” 

“Look a hyar, Teebe, I wants you to quit 
spillin’ dat watah all ober dis kitchen ho’, you 
always botherin’ 'roun’ hyar wid dem ole 
weeds frum frost till June-bug time, it’s got to 
be stopped, do you hyar me?” “Say, nigger, 
who ye be talkin’ ter, ye hain’t no boss uv 
mine, why, Snort can’t boss me let alone a 
nigger lack ye.” “Don’t you know my name 
you ole buck-kneed ejot? You looks lack a 
sheep to me, my name’s Sarah, want me to 
spell it fo’ you?” “Yes.” “C-r-wre-ah-rah, 
Sarah, dat’s what it is, ’tain’t nigger.” “Don’t 
make no difference what yer name be, I’ve got 
ter water these flowers er they’ll all die.” “Let 
'em die. It’s a pity you ain’t dead long go.” 
“Here, what’s this fuss ’bout?” Snort asked as 
he entered the kitchen on returning from tak- 
ing Bertha home. “He’s spillin’ watah all ober 
my flo’, Marse.” “Yes, an she called me a 
sheep.” “I did’ent call him a sheep, I jest says 
he looks lack one, dat’s all.” “Teebe, don’t 
spill water on Sarah’s floor.” “She’s got nuth- 


Quaker Jim 


182 

in’ else ter do, Snort, she kin dry it up.” “Fo’ 
de law’s sake, Marse John, did you hyar dat? 
I does mo’ wuck roun’ hyar in one day dan he 
do in a monf.” “An more talkin’ than he 
would do in three months,” said Snort. “Yes,” 
put in Teebe, “an a nigger, too.” “Teebe, you 
mus’ent call Sarah a nigger, that hain’t nice.” 
“Hain’t nice ter call me a sheep, nuther.” 
Snort took great pleasure in getting up an 
argument between Teebe and Sarah, for they 
not being capable of carrying on one, he could 
impart to Sarah, but not always to Teebe, 
much imaginary information on the topics he 
selected for debate. “Wa’al which one uv ye 
does the most work?” “I do,” replied both at 
once. “Which be the smartest?” “Me,” came 
the answer again from both. “How do ye 
know ye be the smartest, Sarah?” “Kase I 
’tends to my wuck an don’t be botherin’ 'round 
all the yar wid a few old honeysuckle vines 
an some weeds dat never has a flower on ’em.” 
“That be a mistaken, Snort, here’s a plant 
what had a purty flower on it las’ summer, an 
that ole Alten stolt it off, I b’live, ef he did’ent 
Mandy did." “Nobody never took dat little ole 
flower, Marse John, kase it war pizen, it smelt 
like it.” “Why air ye smarter than Sarah, 
Uncle Teebe?” “I don't think that be any uv 
yer business, Snort. I don’t tell everthing I 
know, an ye think I’m goin’ ter tell whar that 
nigger kin hear it, she'd be smarter than me ef 
I wuster.” “I jest wanter ask ye one question 
an see which kin give the best answer. Sarah, 
what’s yer ’pinion uv frogs?” “What kinder 


Quaker Jim 


i S3 

frog’s ?” “Any kind what hops on four legs.” 
“Well, dese big green frogs am mighty good 
eatin’, while dese little ole toads ar’ rest ’sturb- 
ers, specially ter folks livin’ ’round ponds.” 
“What ye gotter say 'bout ’em, Uncle Teebe?” 
“Frogs wuz made ter eat up all the bad bugs 
what gits on flowers, an I think if they wanter 
set on the bank uv a pond at night an sing 
over their day's work, nobody oughter git mad 
’bout it an call ’em rest ’sturbers.” “I differ 
altergether with both uv ye.” “What ye think 
on ’em,” asked Teebe. “I think the frog kin 
hop the furtherest will git away frum the 
snake.” “We knowed that,” Teebe said. 
“Wa’al, why did’ent ye say it?” “Kase we 
never thought on it.” “Jest so, an that’s the 
way twixt ye an Sarah, ye hop right into one 
anuther without thinkin’, ’stid a bein’ more 
peaceful ye air always fussin’. Now I jest 
give ye this little problem ter show ye the 
foolishness uv cornin’ tergether all the time 
over nuthin’. Everthing can’t be as we want 
it, ef it wuz the frog would’ent haf ter move 
when the snake ’pears roun’. Ye must always 
’member ter be kind towards each other an 
not let yer temper git the best uv ye, so frum 
this out I hope ye will think uv this little 
parable an don’t start ter fussin’ when ye see 
ve can’t agree. I don’t force this rule on 
nuther one uv ye, I jest only ask ye ter do it, 
an ef ye see ye must finally have a fuss arter 
’siderin’ all matters then fuss easy, don’t make 
too much noise ’bout it.” “John!” “Yes, 
Mandy.” “Thar’s Tharpe out yonder at the 


184 


Quaker Jim 


front door, wants ter see yer.” John left Teebe 
and Sarah to see what Bob wanted. On his 
way through the house he took time to ask 
Mandy why she did’ent go to the door and let 
him in. “Indeed, he shant come in this house 
ef I hafter ax him.” Snort went on to the 
door and found Bob waiting on the porch. 
“Gracious alive, Bob, why did’ent ye come in 
by the fire?” “I thank you, Mr. Fox, I only 
have a moment to stay, I must hurry home, 
Bertha will think I am lost.” “Bertha jest 
went home a little while ago an I reckon she 
hain’t got yer supper ready yit. Come in -an 
git yer fingers warm ’fore ye start home, ye’ve 
been out in the cold all day, an I reckon a 
little fire won’t hurt ye.” “No, Mr. Fox, I 
really hav’ent the time, I came up to ask if 
you were going to dress the turkeys to-mor- 
row?” “Yes, I reckon, ef we kin git Liz over 
ter help we may as wells ter. ’Tain’t but a few 
days till Christmas, anyhow, an I reckon 
they’ll be jest as high now as any time.” “Mr. 
Pent told me he was giving twelve cents for 
dressed turkeys.” “Wa’al the Quaker kin have 
ourn ef he be payin’ that price, liable ter turn 
warm twixt now an Christmurs, an ef it does 
they’ll go down lack meltin’ lead.” “Then I 
will tell Liz and Possum to be here in the 
morning?” “Yes, tell Liz, an uv course Pos- 
sum’ll be on hand.” Turkey dressing day was 
more than an ordinary event in Snort’s coun- 
try. Like threshing day, those who were in- 
vited in to assist, a spread was laid for them 
which at some places ended up in a dance in 


Quaker Jim 185 

the evening. At Snort’s house this had not 
taken place for some time, Mandy strictly op- 
posed it as low and vulgar, it was not village 
ideas, that was for poor people who actually 
gained part of their living from the profits on 
the turkeys. Snort could not get out of the 
old custom of raising turkeys, for the profit 
there was in them did not look like a trifle to 
him. They argued over it several seasons till 
Mandy agreed to have the turkeys, but no 
more feast or dances was to be indulged in, 
nor was she to touch a hand in the dressing 
of them, only to see that the job was properly 
done. Snort, not to be out done, however, al- 
ways had Liz and Possum to come over and 
they had a little set-tee of their own. Possum, 
beside being constable and “ ’fender of the 
law,” was also known throughout the country 
as turkey killer. Every family, at killing-time, 
sent Possum a cordial invitation to come and 
slew the fowls. Many a strutting gobbler had 
his gobble silenced forever by the powerful 
hand of Possum, so well was he known for his 
executing ability that even the turkeys seemed 
to suspicion him when he entered the barn 
yard. Whether it had been taught the young 
of those turkeys that had been left to witness 
the slaughter of their sisters and brothers, or 
whether they could smell the blood of their 
forefathers, is a question Possum does’ent 
seem to be able to answer ; however, it is safe 
to say if the turkey could come back after 
death, Possum would see many a red-billed 
gobbler perched up on the head of his bed to 


1 


Quaker Jim 


i 86 

haunt him for the destruction of their race. 
As Possum was a genius at killing so was Liz 
at dressing, and she, like Possum, received 
numerous invitations to prepare the turkey for 
market. No one had anything on her for neat 
and quick dressing of the proud fowls. Sarah 
claimed she was the best, but Liz could dress 
two to her one and talk to Possum at the same 
time. 

“The big kittle” was on the fire next morn- 
ing bright and early, the steam rose and passed 
off in the crisp morning air from the boiling 
water that was to scald the hundred or more 
turkeys which had enjoyed themselves im- 
mensely on Snort’s corn and wheat for about 
eight months, had they known it to be their 
last day to feast upon the good things Snort 
was giving them they would not have stood 
around drawing one foot and then the other 
under their feathers to warm themselves from 
the biting frost and looking contentedly at the 
passing steam from the water that was to take 
the feathers from their bodies. Liz rode up 
on the Sorrel Mare a little after daylight, ac- 
companied by Possum on “Shoo-Fly,” who 
carried, strapped to her back, the famous 
hatchet that was to do the deed. “Mornin’, 
Snort.” “High, Possum.” “I see ye’ve done 
got the kittle a bilin’.” “Yes, had her on ’fore 
daylight.” “Did’ent hear a thing ’bout the 
killin’ till late las’ night, must a made up yer 
mind purty sudden?” “I thought I mout as 
wells ter do it now an have it over with, hain’t 
no easy job ter kill a gang uv turkeys. Had 


l 


Quaker Jim 


i8 7 


yer breakfurst, Possum?” “No, ding-be- 
dinged, ef I did’ent git up so late I did’ent 
think I had time ter fix it.” Possum made it a 
habit to take breakfast, dinner and supper 
wherever he did a day’s work, and he left a 
slate on his doorstep telling where he was if 
anyone should happen to call upon him for 
duty as an officer. “Hello, Nellie, how be ye?" 
Possum said to Nellie as she walked out in 
the yard looking refreshed from Bertha’s visit. 
“I feel very good this morning, Mr. Boone.” 
“What brung ye out so early, air ye agoin’ ter 
hope with the turkeys?” “Of course, I am 
going to help Liz and Sarah to dress them. 
Don’t you think me able to work?” “Oh, ye 
be able enuf, but a nice lookin’ gal lack ye 
don’t wanter be workin’ ’roun’ lack us ole 
folks.” “Your girl is going to work, is’ent 
she as good as me?” “Yes, but ye see she’s 
use ter it, whar ye hain’t.” “You don’t know 
what a handy girl I am, there are many things 
I can do, you think I can’t.” “All right, jest 
pitch in, yet kin hold the turkeys’ heads while 
I chop ’em off.” “Oh, no, Mr. Boone, you 
must get someone else for that, I wish to help 
Lizzie and Sarah.” “What’s matter, sceared 
uv ’em?” “No, I don’t like to see anything 
killed.” “Sorter chicken-hearted?” “Some- 
what.” “Wa’all, ye don’t hafter hold ’em, Nel- 
lie, Snort’ll do that.” “Come on here, Possum, 
an git ready fer business, don't be standin’ 
thar talkin’ ter Nellie, she don’t ker nuthin’ 
’bout yer,” Liz said, carrying a large pan and 
knife out of the house she used for dressing 



Quaker Jim 


i 88 

the turkeys. “Yes, yes, clear, I’m cornin’ right 
away.’’ “You had better hurry on or Liz will 
get after you,” Nellie said as Possum hurried 
in after his breakfast. After a while Possum 
and Snort came out prepared to start the 
slaughter of the fowls. It seemed to give 
Possum delight to lay the head of a turkey 
upon the execution block, and every one 
brought up he had some comment to pass 
upon it. The first was an old turkey hen that 
had seen considerable service in turkey life. 
Possum grabbed it by the head. “Come here, 
ye ole egg-hidin’ thief, ye'll never steal 
anuther nest away whar nobody can’t find it 
an have it out ’mongst snakes an lizzards 
ruther than ter home.” Whiff! Off went the 
turkey’s head and into the basket thrown by 
the man of the hour in turkeydom. The next 
victim was a large gobbler that had been 
the overseer of the other turkeys. For a con- 
siderable while Snort had refused to kill him 
in previous seasons owing to his powerful size, 
but this year he must go, he did not depart 
this life, however, without leaving Possum a 
token of remembrance, for as he started to 
grab his head he gave Possum a pluck that 
left its mark for sometime. When he had 
gotten the turkey’s head upon the block he 
said, while Snort was still laughing, “Ye big 
red snout rascal, ye sharpened that bill a per- 
pose fer me, moreover, ye look lack ole Bill 
Pearce, he hates me, an T reckon ve do, too.” 
Snort got so full of laughter at Possum saying 
the gobbler looked like Bill Pearce that he lei 


189 


Quaker Jim 

loose of the body which he was holding and 
left Possum there holding the head firmly to 
the block with one hand, while in the other he 
held the hatchet, it scratched so desperately 
for its freedom that Possum received several 
long gashes in his hand from the claws of his 
victim. Possum held bravely on as he hol- 
lowed, “Come here, Snort, come here, hain’t 
no time fer foolishness, this thing has clawed 
me plum ter the bone an tryin’ ter scratch ’em 
out.” Snort came to his assistance and finally 
off went the head of Bill Pearce’s resemblance. 
Things went on nicely for a while, turkey after 
turkey’s head was severed from its body, body 
after body was dipped into the scalding water, 
its glossy feathers taken off by Sarah, who was 
alloted this portion of the work. Finally the 
scene changed. Snort had a ferocious bull 
fastened in the stable, somehow or other the 
thing decided to have its liberty. By rubbing 
and pushing the bar which kept it in the stall 
the bar came loose and out walked the bull 
into the lot Possum was working in. Now by 
this time Possum was besmeared with blood, 
and we know from old that bulls have no 
friendly feeling for anything red, so upon see- 
ing him the bull took it for granted that Pos- 
sum was opposed to his race. Lowering his 
head and giving a roar, he started for the scene 
of battle like any true bull, who had been of- 
fered offense by the sight of gore. Possum 
had just beheaded another turkey and the blood 
was flowing freely, when, by mere chance, he 
looked towards the stable and saw the bull 


i^ci Quaker Jim 

coming at full speed. “Gret twinklin’ stars, 
Snort, look a yonder.” Dropping the hatchet 
he, like a squirrel, went to the top of a small 
tree standing near by, and left Snort to his 
fate. The bull did not seem to take any notice 
of Snort, nor did he feel slighted, but directed 
his whole attention upon Possum. He dashed 
frantically into the shaky tree Possum had 
taken refuge in, and made it bend with his 
force and Possum’s weight almost to the 
ground. Possum held on like a squirrel to a 
wind-blown limb, back came the tree swing- 
ing to and fro, till it stopped at its natural 
position with Possum still clinging to its 
branches. The bull decided to take another 
try at it, and going back about ten yards to 
get a good start, he crashed into the tree with 
terrible force, over bent the tree till Possum 
touched the ground, back it swung to the 
other side till Possum’s head came in contact 
with the bull’s back. Pie, seeing his danger, 
appealed to Snort for assistance, who by this 
time had gotten over the fence. “Snort, Snort, 
don’t ye see the pesky thing is tryin’ to giloot 
me? Drive him off, this little ole tree won’t hold 
much longer, I kin feel it breakup now, an 
Lord have mercy on me, if that thing ever gits 
his horns fastened in my skin he’ll snatch my 
hide off quicker’n a flash.” “Spit in his eye, 
Possum, er throw some dirt in his year.” 
“How kin I throw dirt in his year, er how kin 
I spit in his eye, when I hain’t got no ter- 
bacce?” “Take a chaw,” dryly demanded 
Snort. “Ding-be-dinged ef I kin let go this 


Quaker Jim 


191 

limb.” “Ef ye be as brave as ye say ye air, 
why don’t ye come down an fight him ?” “Why 
did’ent ye git out frum under that corn crib 
las’ summer?” “ ’Twuz rainin’.” “I'll take a 
dozent rain storms ’fore standin’ in front uv 
that bull.” “Come on down, Possum, an kill 
the rest uv them turkeys, we need ’em?” Liz 
said. “We’d better ’spone that killin’ fer a 
while, till Snort gits that thing away frum 
here, lease ef I come down thar’ll be worser 
than a turkey killin’, I hain’t got a thing ter 
’fend myself, the hatchet’s right under his feet, 
an ye know he hain’t agoin’ ter let me have it 
without trouble, ’sides I never fight ’fore 
ladies an don’t wanter ’stroy Snort’s property, 
anyhow, moreover, it would’ent ’xactly be a 
officer’s place ter fight bulls, that’s fer heath- 
erns.” The bull kept pawing the earth and 
bellowing while Possum was in conversation 
with Snort. Finally he decided to take one 
more butt at the tree. Possum, seeing his ob- 
ject, fastened his grip more tightly to the limb 
in preparation for another ride to and fro in 
nature’s space. The bull setting his head firm- 
ly and with tail curled over his back made a 
terrific charge upon the tree in an effort to dis- 
lodge Possum, which was successful, for Pos- 
sum loosing his hold was hurled over the fence, 
fully ten feet away, into Snort’s arms, who 
luckily saved him from serious injury. Pos- 
sum, in the anxious moment, thinking he had 
fallen upon the bull started to kick and spit 
viciously. “Hey, here ! Hold on, I hain’t no 
bull, what ye mean by kickin’ me?” Snort said, 


192 Quaker Jim 

dropping Possum to the ground. Possum 
jumped up immediately seeing he was safely 
over the fence. “Ding-be-dinged, Snort, ef I 
would’enter swore I wuz ’stride that bull.” It 
took a good while before Possum fully recov- 
ered from the fright, as his teeth bore witness 
by a continuous chatter. In the meantime 
Snort and Liz drove the beast back into the 
barn, fastened in securely, and the killing went 
on, but Possum kept a sharp lookout upon the 
barn door. Nothing of interest happened dur- 
ing the rest of the day, except Teebe insisted 
on saving a few of the turkey feather for cut- 
tings, saying he thought it might be possible 
to raise flowers from them, and, of course, 
Sarah refused to give him any, saying: “It 

war ’diclus.” Teebe appealed to Nellie, who, 
to make her Uncle feel happy, picked him out 
several nice ones. Teebe thanked her for be- 
ing so kind and assured her if they bloomed the 
next summer she could have one of the flowers. 
Nellie always had a sympathetic feeling for 
Teebe, nor did she make jest of his simplicity, 
but this caused her to laugh heartily at the old 
man as he went away carrying the feathers 
with him. Nellie’s laugh came to a sudden 
stop, for she thought how easily she could be- 
come like Teebe and people would laugh at 
her. Restraining the impulse she put her mind 
upon other thoughts which were far more im- 
portant than Teebe’s feathers, and it seemed 
that a voice said to her: “Laugh to-day, O 

Nellie Gray, for to-morrow you will be in 
tears.” 




Quaker Jim 


193 


CHAPTER IX. 

Christmas, the happiest of all days in the 
year for old and young, was at hand, only two 
more days and father would present mother 
with a token of good-will, brother would make 
sister happy with a gift, sweetheart to sweet- 
heart, and so on down to the children, whose 
little hearts leap for joy this happy morning 
when they would find their stockings filled 
with toys and candies of all descriptions by 
the most looked upon imaginary being the 
world ever dreamed of. The country store 
was decked with fire crackers, toy pistols, tin 
horns, horses, wagons, and in fact everything 
that pleased the eye both for old and young. 
The Quaker was kept busy from morning till 
night waiting upon purchasers of Christmas 
things, and of all his customers there was one 
who attracted his particular attention over the 
rest, that was Henry Alten, who came in to 
buy a present for Nellie Gray. “Mr. Pent, 
have you something in the way of a nice pres- 
ent for a young lady?” “I have some beautiful 
presents for the ladies.” “Would you mind 
showing them to me?” “Not in the least, Mr. 
Alten, that is what they are here for.” The 
Quaker brought out some really handsome 
articles and sat them before Alten, who looked 


194 Quaker Jim 

them over carefully. “What do you think 
would suit a young lady best of these arti- 
cles?” “I could not say as to that, Mr. Alten, 
but if thee want to buy something nice for thy 
lady friend this bracelet would be appreciated.” 
A thought passed through Alten’s mind. “I 
will take the bracelet and show it to Mandy, 
and, of course, the old silly thing will want to 
show hers, this way she will find out it is gone, 
then I will be able to get Tharpe out of the 
way. I will take that bracelet, Mr. Pent.” 
“Very well, thee will not be sorry thee done 
it, for it is something thy friend will remember 
thee by.” Alten took his present, and that 
evening called on Mandy to show it to her 
before presenting it to Nellie on Christmas day. 
Mandy was delighted to see Mr. Alten as usual 
and Air. Alten was charmed with another visit 
to the grand old lady. “Mrs. Fox,” Alten be- 
gan, “Christmas is upon us. I thought it quite 
right to show my good-will towards Miss Nel- 
lie by making her a nice little gift, neither did 
I think it out of place for me to call and let 
you decide upon my judgment for woman's 
taste.” “Jest so,- Mr. Alten, jest so, I’m glad 
ye come.” “What do you think of this?” Alten 
said, showing Mandy the bracelet. Mandy 
had hardly laid her eyes upon the gift for Nel- 
lie when she broke forth like this: “Jest 

grand, s’blime, beautiful, more purty, most 
purty, how could ye ever thought uv sich a 
nice present fer my Niece?” “Don’t give me 
credit, Mrs. Fox, the Quaker advised me to 
take it, though I would have done so, anyway.” 




Quaker Jim 


195 


" x cs, Mr. Alten, I know ye woulder, kase ye 
be a man uv good taste an I know ye thought 
my Niece’d be pleased ter death. But the 
Quaker, Mr. Alten, he be a workin’ fer ye, 
kase he promised me las’ summer, an he’d lack 
ter see ye an Nellie come two in one an one 
in two.” “No more than I, Mrs. Fox.” “Ner 
me, nuther, Mr. Alten.” “Don’t you know, 
Mrs. Fox, while this is a really pretty present, 
I would like to have gotten Miss Nellie one 
of the old-time bracelets, for I think they are 
so beautiful, Mother has one for fifty years, 
and I think it is the prettiest thing I ever saw.” 
“I got one uv ’em, though it tain’t quite that 
ole, John gin it ter me 'fore we wuz married, 
do ye wanter see it?” Alten could hardly keep 
from laughing outright at the easy manner 
Mandy took the bait. “It would be a source 
of pleasure to gaze upon one of those bracelets 
like Mother's, if it is not too much trouble, 
Mrs. Fox.” “ ’Tain’t no trouble tall, Mr. Al- 
ten, I left it thar in that cup on the table.” 
Mandy went over to the table, looked in the 
cup, behold the bracelet was gone. “ ’Tain't 
here, I reckon Nellie put it in the bureau 
drawer. I’ll look thar.” After a diligent 
search, in which she scratched and tumbled 
article after article out of its proper place, she 
slamed the drawers back and went over to the 
mantel. “I wonder whar that gal coulder put 
that thing, I’d be so glad to show it to ye, Mr. 
Alten, jest wait a minute I’ll call Nellie.” “No, 
never mind, Mrs. Fox, don’t disturb her, really 
I must be going and 1 don’t want Miss Nellie 


196 


Quaker Jim 


to know I have this present for her.” “I’m 
powerful sorry I can’t find it fer ye, Mr. Al- 
ten.” “Don’t worry, Mrs. Fox, I know where 
the bracelet is.” “Ye know whar it be?” “Yes, 
and so does Teebe?” “Did ye see Teebe wuth 
that bracelet?” “No, but Teebe saw Bob 
Tharpe with it.” “What?” Alten looked as 
unconcerned as though Bob did take the brace- 
let. “He certainly did. Do you remember 
what I told you some time ago, Mrs. Fox?” 
“Yes, pwertly does it come ter my mind, I’d 
never thought he’d take that.” “Well, he did, 
and Teebe followed him and watched where 
he hid it.” “I must call Teebe an ax him ’fore 
ye, kase he won’t tell me the truth.” Teebe 
was accordingly ushered into the parlor. 
“Teebe, did ye see Bob Tharpe wuth my brace- 
let?” “No, Mandy, I did’ent.” “Teebe,” spoke 
up Alten, “don’t you remember telling me you 
saw Bob with the bracelet?” The incident 
between Alten and Teebe had slipped his mem- 
ory, but Alten pulled a five-dollar bill from 
his pocket and leisurely fumbled it through 
his fingers so Teebe could see it. The sight 
of the bill brought back to Teebe’s mind the 
money Alten had given him to take the brace- 
let and hide it. It also reminded him of the 
joke he intended playing on Alten. “Oh, yes, 
Mandy, that’s right, an he hid it up over the 
barn loft door.” “Did ye watch him?” “Yes.” 
“Did he see ye?” “No, it wuz purty nigh dark 
when I seed him sneak out uv the parlor with 
it an I followed him.” “Ye shore he had the 
bracelet?" “Yes, kase he raised it up ter look 


Quaker Jim 


197 


at it an I saw the whole thing.” “Why did’ent 
ye tell me jest soon as ye saw him wuth it?” 
“I will tell you, Mrs. Fox,” said Alten, “Teebe 
came and told me, I told him to say nothing 
about it till I said so. I wanted you to miss it 
first so I could prove what I told you about 
Mr. Tharpe was correct and I thought he may 
take some other article, which he has very 
probably done. I had no fear of the bracelet 
being lost for Teebe has kept a close watch on 
it.” Had Mandy stopped a moment to con- 
sider, how unreasonable Alten’s tale would 
have appeared. Knowing, as she knew, what 
an ill-will Teebe held against her and the lik- 
ing he had for Bob, could she not have seen 
that anything done against her would be pleas- 
ing to Teebe, and did she not know that had 
everything she possessed been taken by Bob, 
Teebe’s lips would have remained sealed in his 
defense. Mandy did not see a thing, but Bob 
Tharpe as a thief, and willingly would she have 
forfeited a thousand bracelets to catch him 
with one, so blinded was she in her opinion of 
Bob. Pushing close to Alten and almost 
caressing him she said: “Mr. Alten, I always 
did b’live ye Tout Bob, and I know it now, 
ye’ve proved yersef ter be a man, whar he be a 
rogue. I tole Nellie he war’ent much account, 
an I reckon she’ll b’live what I say now. I’m 
goin’ ter make John discharge him termorror, 
I’ll have Possum go over an search the place 
ter rekiver the bracelet.” “You do exactly 
right, Mrs. Fox, you could never trust him 
again, it would’ent be wise to have a man like 


Quaker Jim 


198 

him working for you, better you get a good 
darkey. I remember Father had a fellow over- 
seeing his place, he did the same thing, for a 
while he made a good man, prosperity was 
never intended for him, little by little the habit 
of taking things came upon him till finally he 
took a large sum of Father's money and it 
landed him in prison. If I were you, Mrs. Fox, 
I would’ent prosecute Tharpe for his sister’s 
sake. Let him leave the neighborhood, and 
perhaps he may become a better man.” “That 
mout be all right, Mr. Alten, but he ’zerves 
punishment.” “I ask you, Mrs. Fox, for my 
sake, not to prosecute Tharpe, I have the 
greatest sympathy for his sister.” “Bertha 
has been a good gal, Mr. Alten, an ef ye say so 
I won’t do it. Still it be a shame ter let him 
off, kase he’ll do some other body the same 
way.” “Let us hope he may not.” Well did 
Alten know if Bob was arrested and presented 
in court he may be the prosecuted and Bob the 
prosecutor before it was ended. It was ar- 
ranged between Mandy and Alten that Bob 
was to loose his position and Possum was to 
be sent on the search of the bracelet. Let us 
mention that Teebe, upon giving his state- 
ment to Mandy, was immediately sent from 
the room, so he never heard what took place 
between the two afterwards. 

Mandy came to the breakfast table next 
morning with anything but a pleasant look 
upon her face. To Nellie itwas quite noticeable, 
while Snort never gave her enough attention 
to see the unpleasant temperment she was un- 






Quaker Jim 


199 


der. Nothing was said during the meal or that 
morning. As the day passed on and no one 
asked Mandy her trouble her temper arose, 
not being able to control herself any longer 
she sent for Snort. Upon his arrival she or- 
dered him to a seat, which he took in obeyance 
to her will. ‘'John, I’ve got sumpin’ ’portant 
ter tell ye, an I want ye ter listen wuth both 
years. ” “What be it, Mandy?” “Ye know 
that bracelet ye give me ’fore we wuz mar- 
ried?” “Yes.” “Wa’al it’s gone?” “What 
went wuth it?” “John, I know ye think I mout 
be tell in’ ye a lie, but ef ye wanter know whar 
the bracelet be I kin tell ye.” “Less hear, 
Mandy, so we kin make 'rangements towards 
gittin’ it.” “Bob Tharpe’s got it, an I kin 
prove what I say.” “What? Ye mean ter tell 
me Bob’s got that bracelet. I don’t b’live a 
word uv this, Mandy Fox.” “I told ye ye’d 
’sprite my word, now he jest has got it an I’m 
agoin’ ter git it an, moreover, he is agoin’ ter 
leave here, do ye unerstand.” “He’ll never 
leave less ye give me pint blank proof uv his 
guilt.” “I kin do that in a few minutes ef ye 
want me ter.” “I sartiny demand the proof.” 
Teebe was again ushered in to give the state- 
ment he had given the night previous. “Tell 
John what Bob done wuth that bracelet, 
Teebe!” “He stole it, Snort; what do ye 
reckon he done wuth it?” “Air ye tellin’ me 
the truth?” John asked. “Pawn my honor I 
be.” “Do ye be shore the bracelet be thar?” 
“I do.” “Wa’al let me see ye go fetch it over.” 
This puzzled Teebe, he did’ent exactly know 


200 




what to do. He was desirous to fool Alten, 
thinking a greater reward would be given him. 
Teehe studied a moment and replied : “Ef ye 

want that thing ye better go over yersef er 
send Possum, I hain’t agoin’.” “Why won’t 
ye go, Teebe?” Snort asked. “Why don’t ye?” 
Teebe retaliated. “It mout git me inter a 
whole lot uv trouble.” “No, an I hain’t agoin’ 
ter let Teebe go, nuther, the thing ter do is 
to discharge him an send Possum over thar, 
he kin fetch it,” Mandy said, and told Teebe 
to go after Possum at once, much to Teebe’s 
delight, who was more than anxious to have 
the joke pulled off as soon as possible. “Now, 
John,” continued Mandy, “I want ye ter go out 
thar right away an pay Bob Tharpe off, kase 
I never wanter set eyes on him agin. I tole 
ye what he wuz an ye did’ent b’live me, now 
ye kin see fer yersef.” Snort went over to the 
desk, took out .bob’s money, and, turning to 
Mandy, said: “Ef ye wanter tell Bob ter leave 
here’s his money, but fer me to tell him, No. 
He's been the best friend I ever had, an less 
he is actually caught with that bracelet in his 
possession I will never b’live him ter be a 
thief.” Taking the money from her husband 
Mandy bolted out of the house in a fit of rage, 
because he told her of his confidence in Bob. 
Going on through the yard and out into the 
barn she found the man who had made John 
Fox, dollar after dollar, by his honest and 
faithful management and at the same time was 
thinking over the prosperous year just coming 
to a close and of the good results he had at- 


Quaker Jim 


201 


tained for his employer. Seeing Mandy com- 
ing towards him caused Bob to feel good for 
a moment, for he really thought she was com- 
ing to make friends. He looked at her and 
smiled as she approached, but his happy 
thoughts were soon changed to pangs of sor- 
row, for Mandy said in a very angry tone : 
“Ye need’ent smile at me, ye good fer nuthin’ 
critter, here’s yer money, an I don’t never want 
er set eyes on ye agin ’roun’ this place.” Bob 
was speechless for a moment, mastering him- 
self he exclaimed: “Why, what is the matter, 
Mrs. Fox? What have I done?” “Never mind 
what ye done, ef ye don’t clar yersef outen 
this country in a week’s time I’ll show ye what 
ye’ve done.” “I don’t understand you, Mrs. 
Fox.” “Ye’ll understan’ Possum when he 
comes over ter night.” “Am I to be impris- 
oned?” “Ye’ll be give jest one week ter find 
another neighborhood, an if ye don't do it the 
law will tend ter ye.” “Won't you give me 
some reason for this?” “I’ll give ye nuthin’ 
an it hain’t no use ter ax me. Ye know what 
ye have done.” “I don’t know one thing I 
have done either to you or anyone.” “Go 
ahead an git outen here, I hain’t agoin’ ter 
talk ter ye no more,” and turning on her heel 
Mandy walked to the house. Bob put on his 
overcoat and went away, not knowing what to 
do or think about the sudden actions of Mandy. 
Christmas was at hand, and what a Christmas 
would it be to him, had it not been for his 
confidence in a Divine Being, pitiable indeed 
would have been his plight. What hurt Bob 


202 


Quaker Jim 

most was the talk he knew Mandy would 
spread and her commanding him to leave the 
neighborhood. What had he done to be or- 
dered from the people who had respected, even 
loved him as the humble and honest Bob 
Tharpe? Bob knew Nellie would never turn 
against him unless they made her believe he 
had done something not honorable. He knew 
she would console him and offer assistance, 
therefore, he felt if anything had been con- 
cocted against him, before Nellie would turn 
her back she would let him know what it was 
and give him a chance to prove his innocence, 
but the idea of being driven away without an 
explanation weighed heavily upon his mind, 
and being the middle of winter he knew it 
would be a difficult thing to obtain another 
position. Under these weary burdens Bob was 
making his way homeward when the same 
thought entered his mind that had come to 
Nellie’s in time of trouble. “Go see the 
Ouaker.” Entering the house Bob threw him- 
self in a chair and buried his head in his hands. 
Bertha noticed the peculiar actions of her 
brother and asked: “What is the matter, 

Bob?” No answer came, he was thinking 
whether to tell his sister now or wait a few 
days. Making up his mind not to tell her un- 
til he found out the cause of his dismissal he 
said : “I don’t feel very well to-night, Bertha, 
and I still have to see the Quaker. How long 
will it take to have supper ready, Sis?” “Just 
a little while, Bob. Why don’t you cheer up, 
don’t you know to-morrow is Christmas Day?” 


Quaker Jim 


203 


“Yes, Bertha, I know it, but some people will 
be happy to-morrow while others are sad.” 
“What makes you sad? Did’ent you get Nellie 
a present?” “Why should I get Nellie a pres- 
ent?” “Now come, Bob, it’s no use of you 
putting me off longer, I know Nellie loves you 
and you love her.” “Who told you, Sis?” 
“Never mind, I know it.” “Even if I thought 
the world of Nellie it would do her nor me no 
good now.” “Why, Bob, you hav’ent had a 
disagreement?” “No, Sis, we had none, but 
hurry the supper, I have no time to talk of 
love affairs.” “You want to get Nellie’s pres- 
ent, don’t you, Bob? Are you going to re- 
member me?” “I never have forgotten you.” 
Bob ate his supper hurriedly and left the 
house, telling his sister he would return in a 
short while. 

Going direct to the Quaker’s Bob found the 
store full of people, all in the best of humor, 
and as Snort would say, “whettin’ their ap- 
petites fer the gizzard of a turkey” the follow- 
ing day. Everyone wished Bob a Merry and 
Happy Christmas, little knowing what a pang 
had been sent to his heart only an hour ago. 
Bob revived his courage to the utmost of his 
ability and returned the greeting, hoping to 
the bottom of his heart that not one of them 
bore the sorrow of his or that nothing may 
happen to mar their happiness on the day of 
days as his would be. Being the custom to 
close the store early in the evening the cus- 
tomers dispersed one by one till Bob found 
himself alone with the Quaker. “Ah, friend, 


204 


Quaker Jiai 


what brought thee thither?” “Mr. Pent, I 
came to you for advice,” Bob spoke in a clear 
and firm voice. “I would be glad to impart any 
information for thy sake, friend.” “Mr. Pent, 
you told me not long ago you would be a 
friend to me?” “So I did, so I will.” “Well, I 
have been discharged by Mrs. Fox, and I don’t 
know what for, neither do I know what to do.” 
“Discharged !” the Quaker said in a seemingly 
amazed voice. “Discharged and ordered to 
leave the county in a week’s time.” “Why 
was thee ordered to leave thy community?” 
“I don’t know.” “Did’ent thee say it was Mrs. 
Fox who dismissed thee?” “Yes, Sir.” “Did’st 
thee see Mr. Fox?” “I never got to see him 
at all, if I had probably I could have known 
the cause. That is why I came to see you, 
for assistance in proving my innocence before 
Nellie, for I really think there is some kind of 
a plot framed up by Mrs. Fox to cause me dis- 
credit before her.” “Thee are right, friend, 
such is the case, but not by Mrs. Fox.” 
“What? By whom could it be?” “That I will 
show thee later.” “Why not now, I demand 
to know, Mr. Pent.” “Thee must not get im- 
patient, nothing can be accomplished hastily.” 
Bob had gotten excited upon being told it 
was’ent Mrs. Fox who was working against 
him so much as another party. “Pardon me, 
Mr. Pent, for getting so bold, shall I know in 
a short time?” “A very short time, friend.” 
“Then what would you advise me to do?” 
“If thee will do as I say all will be well ” 
“What is it?” “Will thee do it?” “I promise 




Quaker Jim 


205 


to do as you say if it be in my power.” 
'‘Friend, I know thee trust me now. I told 
thee some day I would be thy friend, the time 
is at hand, go thee to thy home, rest thyself 
to-night, do not let anything disturb thee, en- 
joy thy Christmas to-morrow as of old, but,” 
the Quaker paused a moment, "in the evening 
of to-morrow go thee to Mr. Fox’s home, ask 
for Mr. Fox and the wife before Ffenry Alten 
demand why thee was discharged.” "Henry 
Alten,” Bob gasped, staggering to a chair, 
“what has he to do with it?” "Much indeed, 
friend, that thee will find out to-morrow even- 
ing.” "I knew he was trying to win the af- 
fections of Nellie, but it never dawned upon 
my mind he was trying to throw me out of 
my position.” "Did’st thee not feel uneasy 
about it for some time?” "I did, Mr. Pent, 
though I never suspicioned Alten of being im- 
plicated. "Fear not, do as I say.” "I will do 
it, Mr. Pent, but what chance can I have 
against Mrs. Fox and Alten?” "Did I not say 
I was thy friend?” "Yes.” "Then go in peace 
and when the time comes thee will have noth- 
ing but friends, and thee will be hailed as a 
man of honor and principle instead of the op- 
posite they would in vain make thee.” Bob 
returned home feeling the satisfaction that he 
had one friend in the person of the Quaker. 

Possum came over to Snort’s in a short while 
with Teebe, who had been sent after him. 
Upon entering the hall he was met by Mandy, 
who showed him and Teebe into the parlor, 
motioning at the same time for John to follow. 


206 Quaker Jim 

John in turn winked to Nellie to enter with 
him, for she had heard nothing as yet of Bob’s 
dismissal and supposed theft, nor was it 
Snort’s intention to keep her in the dark on 
the subject, realizing if the worse was to come 
it w'ould do no good in holding it from his 
Niece. Mandy related the story to Possum, 
sarcastically looking at Nellie now and then 
to impress more firmly on her mind what she 
thought of Bob. When she had finished, Pos- 
sum said: “Mandy, I can’t somehow er ruther 
b’live it.” “Teebe seed him, Possum, an ye 
know he hain’t got gumption enuf ter fix up a 
tale lack that.” “That be so; Teebe, did ye 
see whar he put it?” Possum asked. “Yes, 
Possum, he put it — let me see whar did he 
put it?” “Over the barn loff door,” broke in 
Mandy, by way of refreshing Teebe’s memory. 
“Hold yer tongue,” said Possum, “that hain’t 
law, let Teebe speak fer hissef.” “That’s it, 
over the barn loff door,” said Teebe. “Wa’al, 
ye’ll hafter take out a search warrant fer it an 
that’ll give me right ter go through the whole 
place, ’ceptin’ the bull pen,” Possum said, in 
rememberance of his ride in the tree. “Ye 
don’t hafter take out nuthin’, Possum, jest go 
thar an demand the bracelet, an ef Bob savs 
he hain’t got it, take him ter the place whar it 
be an show it ter him,” said Snort. “S’pose it 
hain’t thar?” “I hope it hain’t,” Snort an- 
swered. “Ye’d lack ter see the thief git outen 
it, would’ent ye?” Mandy said to her husband. 
“I would lack to see him innocent, which I 
b’live he be,” said her husband, “an ef he do 


Quaker Jim 


v 

207 

be ye’ll have yer sef in a purty fix.” “Fix er 
no fix, he can’t come back here no more.” 
Nellie, who was sitting there and heard 
Mandy’s remark, got up and started from the- 
room, on her way out she was heard to say: 
“If Bob don't come back I am not welcome 
here.” “Mandy,” Possum went on, “I’ll do 
what Snort says in the mornin’, er else I’ll 
’guise a little an sneak in the lofif an git the 
bracelet." “I’d druther ye’d do that, Possum, 
kase I don’t wanter have him ’rested on the 
’count uv Bertha.” It was, therefore, agreed 
that Possum was to get the bracelet without 
molesting Bob, if possible, and that in case of 
Bob’s innocence, despite Mandy’s threat, he 
was to return to his position ; Mandy had 
agreed upon this after much debating with 
her husband and Possum, wdio, we are bound 
to say in due justice to the “ ’fender uv the 
law,” that he held a great regard for Bob, and 
really believed him innocent. 

Nellie went directly to her room. Casting 
herself upon her bed she wept bitterly over 
Bob’s treatment, not because he had lost his 
position, to her that was nothing, the dis- 
graceful accusation of theft of the man to 
whom she had given her heart caused grief to 
the pure-minded girl. To believe Bob guilty 
of the crime laid to him she could not, and if 
the bracelet was found in the designated place 
to free him would be hard, knowing well 
Mandy’s delight in spreading evil news of her 
neighbor and more especially Bob, whom we 
all know she fairly despised. Nellie arose 


208 


Quaker Jim 

from her bed ana going over to a desk she took 
from the drawer paper and pen, seating herself 
she wrote : 

“Dear Uncle James: 

“If one drop of sympathy lies in your good 
heart for me, at no other time could you bet- 
ter show it than now. I beg you to come to 
the rescue of, 

“Your persecuted and heart-broken Niece, 

“Nellie Gray.” 

Placing the note in an envelope she ad- 
dressed it to General Delivery at the little 
town given her by the Louisville officials. Go- 
ing downstairs she passed through the hall, 
glancing at the old clock it told her the hour 
of eight had passed. She went on into the 
kitchen, where she found Sarah down-hearted 
like herself. “Auntie?'’ “Yes, honey.” “Will 
you put on your bonnet and take this letter to 
the post-office for me?" “Why, honey, de 
Quaker’s done shet up long go.” “That makes 
no difference, Auntie, you go to his house, tell 
him I sent you and I want this sent out on the 
first train.” “I’ll do it, honey, if I gits snow- 
bound an lose my job ter boot.” Nellie went 
back to her room, nor would she leave it de- 
spite the persuations of Snort, or even Mandy. 
The determined spirit of her father and the 
love of her mother was plying deeply in her, 
and Bob was to be righted before the ones 
who believed him guilty of dishonesty. The 
Quaker was sitting before his fire reading the 
paper when a rap at the door was heard. 


209 


Quaker Jim 

“Come in.” Sarah walked in covered with 
snow. “Good-evening, it seems grandmother 
is picking geese for Christmas?” “High, 
Marse Quaker; Nellie sent me over hyar wid 
dis letter an she says fo’ you to send it on de 
fust mornin’ kars,” Sarah said, handing the 
Quaker the note and shaking the snow off of 
her at the same time. “I will be glad to ac- 
commodate the child in anyway, just say it 
shall be delivered without fail. Won’t thee 
warm thyself before returning?” the Quaker 
asked Sarah. “No, laws no, Marse, I must git 
back fo’ Ole Misses knows I gone, dey havin’ 
lots a trouble over dar, I kin tell you.” “What’s 
the matter?” “Old Misses fired Bob dis 
'cebin an dey had Possum come over to find 
de bracelet, she say he took it.” “Ah ! So 
Bob has been stealing?” the Quaker said, with 
a twinkle in his eye. “No, he ain’t been 
stealin’ an I’d swar to it, jest a ’scuse Ole 
Misses got fer wantin’ to git rid uv Marse 
Bob, dat what it be.” “That is too bad!” “I 
don't know who dat letter’s fo’, but I bet de 
little gal gits him outen it,” Sarah said as she 
went to the door. The Quaker opened the 
note addressed to him, read the appeal of his 
Niece and put it carefully in his pocket. Wip- 
ing the tears from his eyes he exclaimed : “Oh, 
Nellie Gray, my beloved Niece, your deliver- 
ance is at hand, to see you suffer more will 
run me mad, and to-morrow night I shall free 
you from Mandy by reason, if possible, if not, 
anyhow, you shall go with me and marry the 
man you love.” 


210 


Quaker Jim 


CHAPTER X. 

The ground was covered with a beautiful 
mantle of snow on Christmas morning, and 
the faithful were plodding their way to the 
house of God to pay homage to the New Born 
Saviour. One, a faithful one, plowed his way 
through the drifting snow with his head bowed 
low and his heart in deep gratitude to the 
Great Master above in whose house he knew 
he would be a welcome guest, if not by the 
people, by '‘Him, who knoweth and seeth all 
things.” Pie appeared to see nothing, but, ah, 
did he not see the Publican? Did he not see 
the Pharasee? Did he not see the little one 
tripping along in joy, and did he not see the 
fond mothers and fathers of the same children 
going over, like the Shepherds of Bethlehem 
with their hearts full of joy? This he saw and 
more, he saw the drunken man after a night of 
vice reeling himself home to add misery and 
gray hairs to a dutiful wife, perhaps a loving 
mother, he saw hundreds upon hundreds of 
Shepherds, who had not the proper chance to 
go over to Bethlehem this beautiful morning, 
and he saw the heart of the New Born King 
extending out to those who had the chance 
and refused a cordial welcome. All these 
scenes sank deeply in the breast of the hu- 


Quaker Jim 


21 i 


miliated man. When the kind pastor had 
wished them a Joyous Christmas and hoped 
there would not be one sad heart in his parish 
that great day, when the bells had pealed forth, 
after the service, in token of joy, Bob moved 
slowly down the aisle with the congregation. 
He passed pew after pew. As he approached 
near the middle of the church his eye caught 
Nellie’s, who was still in her seat. What 
thoughts passed between these two minds 
man will never know, what anguish went 
through those hearts will go with them to 
their graves. Bob went directly home, not 
daring to remain in the churchyard, for there 
he saw Mandy chatting with everyone whom 
she knew and only too glad would she be to 
circulate the story that she had dismissed him. 
Nellie remained for some time in the church, 
and when she came out she returned with her 
Uncle instead of Mr. Alten, as Mandy had de- 
sired. Things went quietly at the Fox home- 
stead during the day, of course Mr. Alten was 
an invited guest, Possum had made himself so. 
He was to go late that evening and get the 
bracelet, therefore, he was working for Snort, 
it necessarily followed that he must have the 
usual three meals. Nellie had remained in her 
room pretty near all day, and had seen Alten 
only at dinner. Alten had made up his mind 
to propose again to her in the presence of 
Mandy, if it were possible to get them to- 
gether. So after supper his chance came. Un- 
der the strict order of Mandy, Nellie dressed 
and went into the parlor, there she saw Mandy 


212 Quaker Jim 

and Alten alone. It made a chill pass through 
her to gaze upon the instruments of her mis- 
ery. Alten bowed very courteously to her, 
“Miss Nellie, why be so selfish, I hav’ent had 
a chance to talk with you all day.” “I have 
not been feeling well, Mr. Alten.” “I know 
ye’ll feel all right when ye see what Mr. Al- 
ton’s got fer ye,” broke in Mandy. “Why-er- 
yes. Miss Nellie, I thought a little token of 
friendship would not be out of place, so I 
brought you this bracelet and I hope it will 
be a source by which you may feel a deeper 
interest in me.” Nellie looked at the bracelet 
in scorn, it seemed to her as if this had been 
done purposely to remind her of the misfortune 
of Bob the day before. Looking at Alten with 
determination in her eyes she said : “Mr. Al- 

ten, your present is very nice, but I cannot 
accept it.” “Why, Miss Gray, can’t you ac- 
cept it?” “Because I will take no present 
from the man who has caused me the trouble 
you have.” “What trouble have I caused you, 
darling?” “Don’t utter that word again in 
my presence.” “What do ye mean here, young 
lady,” demanded Mandy. “I mean for you to 
hold your tongue till I am through with this 
man.” Turning to Alten, Nellie continued: 
“Mr. Alten you have not acted a gentleman. I 
told you once I would never marry you, you 
have still insisted on paying attentions to me 
and to further your cause you have wrapped 
this illiterate woman around your thumb and 
got her to try to force me to marry you.” 
“Yes an I’m agoin’ ter do it,” said Mandy. 


213 


Quaker Jim 

“You will do no such thing, your day for rul- 
ing me is at an end. I have gone from day to 
day hoping for the best, but little by little you 
have tortured me until now you have plunged 
a sword through my heart by accusing the man 
I love of theft.” “Miss Gray be calm I never 
‘lid a thing against Tharpe in my life.” “Mr. 
Alten never done nuthin’ but seed him take 
that bracelet an I done the rest Missie.” 

A rap was heard at the door Nellie opened 
it and there stood before her the Quaker. 
“Good Evening Child.” “Good Evening Mr. 
Pent. Have you seen Bob to-day?” Nellie 
asked him in a whisper. “Yes Child and Bob 
will be with thee in a few moments,” the 
Quaker answered in a low tone. Mandy see- 
ing the Quaker thought she had another ally 
and so did Alten who had been informed by 
Mandy that he was doing his best to unite 
them. “I’m a foolish fellow for not giving that 
bracelet to the Quaker after all, he would have 
done better than that idiot,” thought Alten. 
Of course no more words were passed between 
Nellie, Mandy and Mr. Alten for upon hearing 
Bob was coming Nellie thought it wise to wait. 
Mandy to be natural had to tell the Quaker of 
Bob’s supposed act and this kept up the con- 
versation till footsteps squeaking in the snow 
came upon the porch and a knock was heard. 
Mandy arose, opened the door and found her- 
self face to face with Bob Tharpe. .She started 
to slam the door but Nellie caught it and bid 
Bob enter. Bob walked to the center of the 
room with his hat in his hand. Nellie followed 


214 Quaker Jim 

him. “Won’t you be seated, Bob?” she asked 
in a tone that told him she was still his friend. 
Mandy with the spirit of a demon demanded 
of him why he had come there. “Mrs. Fox, I 
came to know why I was discharged by you 
yesterday?” “I tole ye onct that I never 
wanted ter set eyes on ye agin, but ef ye ’sist, 
the reason I let ye go is kase ye stole my 
bracelet.” “I took your bracelet?” “Yes, an 
Possum’s gone arter it now, an the best thing 
ye kin do is ter blare yersef outen these parts.” 
“You demand me to leave my people and 
friends saying I am guilty of theft?” “I do, 
an I mean ever word uv it.” “I will tell you, 
I shall not go unless forced to it, you may 
have me imprisoned, if you please, you may 
persecute me in every way, but to make me 
acknowledge I took your bracelet, never.” “Ef 
ye wanter save yersef an sister ye better go.” 
“Mrs. Fox, I realize your position and mine, 
you have money to prosecute me, I have none 
to defend myself, but I have a friend in your 
household who will vouch for my honesty, it 
is none other than your Niece and Nellie.” 
Bob turned to her, “Do you believe me guilty 
of this act?” “I do not, Bob,” Nellie an- 
swered. “Do you believe me guilty, Mr. 
Fox?” Bob asked, as Uncle Snort entered the 
door. “No, Bob, I b’live ye innocent as a 
baby.” Nellie arose from her chair, Bob knew 
she was going to appeal for him and said no 
more, turning to her Aunt and Alten, who sat 
close together, she said: “Bob has come to 

you like a man, he has declared his innocence, 


Quaker Jim 


215 


he has been a faithful and trusty friend to this 
household from childhood, now why, Aunt 
Mandy, should you become so embittered 
against him?” “Kase he stole my bracelet, 
that’s why.” “That is not the reason, Aunt 
Mandy, your cause for not liking him is be- 
cause you think I am going to marry him and 
not Henry Alten, your choice, and I want to 
tell you and everyone present here, that no 
matter what you do or how you try, before I 
marry Henry Alten I had rather go to my 
grave.” “Look a here, Missie, that’s no talk 
ter be ginin’ yer Aunt ’fore this getherin’, ever 
one here is in. favor uv ye marryin’ Mr. Alten 
istid uv that thief, an I, as yer guardin’ ’tends 
ter see ye foller my wush." “I don't believe 
you, there is one here to-night who has given 
Bob and I consolation throughout our trials, 
who has promised to be our friend, and I ask 
you, Mr. Pent, if ever you intend to help us 
now is the time, you see our condition, you 
see our necessities, then come to the assistance 
of two persecuted friends.” 

Everyone stared at the Quaker, Mandy and 
Alten had relied upon him, Snort had not the 
least idea that he would ever bother his mind 
about the affair, and Bob's, who had a half-way 
mistrust of his friendship, heart leaped for joy 
as the white-haired old man arose from his 
chair to sound the death knell to Henry Alten’s 
friendship of Mandy. The first question the 
Quaker asked was: “Is Possum present?” “I 
will see,” Snort said, going from the parlor. 
He returned in a moment with the constable, 


2l6 


Quaker Jim 


whose teeth were chattering from exposure. 
The Quaker then said: “I will ask thee all to 
be quiet, don’t get excited, for I have some- 
thing to say to-night that but one in this party 
knoweth outside of myself.” They all kept 
quiet, Mandy included. The Quaker started 
by asking Mandy : “I have been with thee 

about seven months?” “Yes, that what ye be.” 
“I have acted an honorable citizen while here?” 
“Yes.” “Mr. Alten has been with thee about 
the same time?” “Yes, an he has been a gen- 
tleman,” Mandy said. “So thou thinkest.” 
Alten twitched in his chair. The Quaker 
turned to Alten. “Leslie Bragge, what did 
thee tell thy friend on the night thee was go- 
ing to start for this place?” “You are wrong, 
my dear man, I told no one a thing.” “Did 
thee not tell him that revenge thee must have 
upon James Gray, and did thee not tell him 
that upon the sister was thy only hope?” 
“What do you mean, man?” “I mean that I 
was the old gentleman sitting before thee read- 
ing the paper on that night at , 

the night you swore to disgrace and destroy, 
if possible, the character of this beautiful and 
innocent girl.” “The man has lost his mind,” 
Alten said, but the color in his face dealt a 
telling blow to those who were assembled. “I 
mean thee come here for the sole purpose to 
propose marriage to this girl and then go way 
and leave her in shame. I mean it was thy 
method of revenging thyself upon James Gray, 
thy schoolmate, for telling what thee did to 
obtain the captaincy of the football team. Thee 


Quaker Jim 


217 


thought thee had played well, thee thought no 
one would know it. Now, if thee want re- 
venge, take it upon these gray hairs, for the 
man upon whom thee seek thy hatred has 
passed into eternity.” “The man is demented,” 
Alten faintly said. “Thee will find later about 
that, I ask of thee, Mr. Boone, did thee find 
the bracelet in Bob Tharpe’s barn loft?” “No, 
Quaker, I searched fur a hour at the very spot 
they tole me, an lacked ter friz ter death ter 
boot, but nary a sign uv a bracelet could I find, 
an when I can’t find nuthin’, nuthin’ hain’t 
thar.” “No, Possum, thee did’ent find it, I 
am sorry for thy trouble. Mr. Alten, I have 
the bracelet thee give Teebe five dollars to 
hide in Bob’s barn loft.” The Quaker pulled 
the bracelet from his pocket and gave it to 
Mandy, who had been sitting in a trance-like 
position since the Quaker had commenced to 
speak. “I ask thee to present Teebe in proof 
of my statement.” Teebe was brought in, and 
the Quaker asked him : “Teebe, did thee not 

give me this bracelet, and did thee not tell me 
Alten gave it to thee to hide in Bob Tharpe’s 
home.” Teebe chuckled and nearly went into 
a fit at his supposed joke. “Yes, Quaker, I 
give it ter ye, an that feller, Alten, give me 
five dollars ter hide it at Bob’s an promised me 
more ef I did’ent say nuthin’ ’bout it fer a 
year, but Alten, I thought it would be a joke 
ter play it on both ye an Mandy, so I give it 
ter the Quaker. I think ye oughter give me a 
thousand dollars now, er at least a million.” 


2l8 


Quaker Jim 


“I ought to kill you,” thought Alten, “or ought 
to be killed for giving it to you.” 

Speechless seemed everyone at the Quaker’s 
exposure of Alten. Mandy’s haughty spirit 
had at last been conquered, her head hung in 
shame for upholding the man who had tried 
to wreck the life of her much-beloved 
Nephew’s sister, nor could she look at Bob 
Tharpe, whom she had so falsely persecuted. 
Poor old Snort’s conscience heavily upbraided 
him for permitting his wife to discharge the 
honest young man. Nellie’s heart was too full 
of joy and gratitude to the Quaker to utter a 
word at the moment, while Bob stared in won- 
derment at his two enemies. The Quaker, see- 
ing his advantage, turned to Mandy and con- 
tinued: “Mrs. Fox, thee dost see I have 

worked hard to protect this little girl, thee dost 
see I have come for miles to save thy Niece’s 
good name, as he came to destroy it. I have 
told thee the truth, I have faithfully and hon- 
estly laid before thee the plots of this man, 
who seeketh nothing but revenge upon thy 
dead Nephew, who, when living, was thy life, 
thy joy. I now plead with thee to return to 
thy former self, let thy hatred be turned to 
love for the couple who sit before thee with 
hearts open to forgive thee for thy former mis- 
deeds, let the clouds hovering over those dear 
hearts pass away and let the sun shine bright 
in their future 'Old Kentucky Home.’ May 
my pleadings be not in vain.” The Quaker 
had won the mastery, Mandy was crying and 
trembling like a child. Thrusting aside the 


Quaker Jim 


219 


formalities of a Ouaker, he addressed his 
Niece in the sweet and clear tone used by him 
years gone by, when Nellie sat upon his knee: 
“My sweet little girl, your trials and troubles 
have been many since attaining womanhood, 
hard have you fought for the man you love. 
Man can only imagine what sufferings have 
gone through your little heart. When I gained 
your confidence and promised to be your 
friend at first you trusted me, the burden for 
a while was lifted from your heart, but little 
by little, as time went on and I had done noth- 
ing, as you thought, your trust in me waned, 
and as a last resort you addressed a letter to 
your Uncle, whom you said would free you 
from your tortures. The letter reached its 
destination, my sweet little Niece, your Uncle 
fames stands beside you to plead your cause.” 
In an instant Nellie was clasped in the arms of 
her Uncle. Tenderly and joyfully did she 
smooth those silvery locks as she poured forth 
her heart-soul gratitude to her dearest relative. 
It seemed to make James Fox’s face beam with 
humble blessedness, the moment had come 
which for ten long years he silently waited. 
Snort leaped high in the air, letting out a war- 
whoop that would have made you thought he 
was a sure enough Injun when James disclosed 
his identity, and, of course, in the overjoy, de- 
clared he “k no wed it was Jim all the time,” 
that something told him so, though for the 
life of him he could not tell it to a soul, and 
he asked his brother if he kept the tip end of 


220 Quaker Jim 

a wild cat's tail in his left hip pocket to hold a 
spell over him. 

Mandy remained silent with her head in her 
hands. What a change had come over her, 
the last drop of proud blood which had so 
haughtily flowed through her veins was si- 
lenced forever by James. She studied deeply 
her evil ways for the past fifteen years, every 
day, every minute, of the time was passing 
bitterly before her memory, every transgres- 
sion she had committed against James seemed 
to boldly stand out to condemn her before him. 
Passing on a little farther her mind rested on 
Nellie Gray and Eob Tharpe, what had she 
done against them? It is too well known to 
comment further, so let us stop only for a 
moment to see what effect it was having upon 
the abuser of the two innocent lovers. Could 
she ever clear her conscience of the guilt of 
trying to take an innocent man's character? 
Could she ever clear her conscience of trying 
to instil haughty pride into the heart of her 
Niece, who cultivated the very essence of hu- 
mility, and, after all of her misgivings, was 
she worthy to ask forgiveness of these three, 
especially Bob, whom she had most cruelly 
mistreated. A glance at the three happy peo- 
ple told her to go forth and pour her heart-soul 
sorrow before them and it would be washed 
away in the bliss of humility and love. Ris- 
ing from her chair Mandy staggered to where 
they were, falling on her knees she implored 
them in a faltering tone: “Ji m > Nellie an Bob, 
I’ve done everthing in this wide worle agin ye. 


221 


Quaker Jim 

I've talked ’bout ye an specially ye, Bob, I’ve 
been the kase uv ye Jim leavin’ yer honest 
home, I’ve even tormented John way beyon’ 
ordinary, Nellie, my little chile, the Good 
Lord kin never fergive me fer what I done 
agin ye. Jim, ye’ve acted a man towards the 
family, ye’ve saved my Niece frum what I tried 
ter driv yer, ye’ve proved Bob’s good kerecter, 
which me an that ingrate settin’ over thar 
tried ter take. I now trust ye will act by me 
as ye did by them an I beg ye ter save me 
frum this torment that’s led me on agin ye fer 
fifteen year, the one an only way ye kin do it 
is ter fergive me my wicked ways an beg Nel- 
lie an Bob ter love me so I kin be reconciled 
an love ’em in their coinin’ state, an ef ye do it, 
Jim, I promise never ter move a hand agin one 
uv ye as long as I live. Brother, will ye take 
pity on a poor woman that has been blinded 
by ignorance an fergive her an let her die in 
yer love, which she now so earnestly desires?” 
If man cannot forgive in his heart there is no 
love, and though Mandy’s misdeeds were 
double fold their already enormity, when she 
knelt before James, Nellie and Bob, and plead- 
ed most earnestly for forgiveness, their hearts 
could not but help go out in strains of sym- 
pathy for the unfortunate woman. So they 
did, and he of all who 1 had been the longest 
and most cruelly tormented was the first to 
offer his hand and say: “Come, Mandy, my 

heart is open to forgive every word and act 
against me, I welcome you as my sister of 
old.” Nellie embraced her Aunt and assured 


222 


Quaker Jim 


her every ill-feeling existing against her was 
wiped out when she repented of her wrong 
doing. Bob offered Mandy his hand, she took 
it, pulling him close to her, saying: “Bob, my 
good an noble boy, ye’ve been brave and pa- 
tient in all yer troubles, yer ’ward is richly 
'served, take Nellie wuth all my heart an may 
God bless ye both.” Bob thanked her many 
times and assured her he would have never 
consented to marry Nellie without her per- 
mission, if he could possibly help it. “Wa’al, 
ye have it now, Bob, an I tell ye frum my heart 
the man don’t live I had druther see marry 
Nellie than ye, kase I know ye, Bob, an I have 
mistreated ye badly, I’ll never trust anuther 
strange man as long as I live, be he rich er 
poor.” Alten, seeing his foremost ally turned 
against him and giving her consent to the 
marriage of Nellie, and Bob knew it would be 
useless to try further to carry out his desires, 
nor did he wish to now, as he found out James 
Grav was dead. On the other hand he could 
not help but admire Nellie’s choice in the se- 
lection of Bob, . neither did he pass slightly^ 
over the untiring efforts of her Uncle to save 
her from disgrace. So beautiful did the inno- 
cent girl look to him at that moment he felt 
an envious spirit coming over him at the good 
fortune of Bob, and had he not acted as he did, 
the probability is, he would have worked heart 
and soul to have won her. At any rate, he 
thought an apology was due her and it may go 
a long way in his behalf. He, like Mandy, 
went before them and used his best efforts at 


Quaker Jim 


223 


reconciliation. To them he said: “Mrs. Fox 

and Miss Gray, everything Mr. Fox says about 
me is absolutely the truth. I did seek revenge 
upon your brother, Miss Gray, and I have been 
defeated, now, to my great joy, revenge ran 
in my heart for the actions of your brother 
against me till to-night, when I saw your 
Aunt kneel down before you and when I saw 
you embrace her my heart was touched, in 
you I saw true womanhood, and my love for 
you is now intense, and I ask may I be granted 
the privilege, as your Aunt, to kneel before 
you in tears of sorrow and implore you to do 
with me what you will?” “Mr. Bragge, for 
you to implore my forgiveness is not necessary, 
I bear you no malice, I wish you well and sin- 
cerely hope you will never try again to take 
out your hatred upon an innocent girl who 
has never done you harm.” “Won’t you still 
be a friend to me, Miss Grav?" “I shall re- 
main as I have always been." “What is that?" 
said Bragge. “An acquaintance," Nellie calm- 
ly answered. “Mrs. Fox, won’t you forgive me 
and intercede in my behalf?" Bragge, turning 
to Mandy, asked. “ ’Bout the givin’ part, if I 
spects ter be a Christian Fll hafter, but the 
’cedin’ part, no, I won’t seed no more fer ye. 

I thought ye a gentleman an ye’ve turned out 
ter be a hater uv my dead Nephew, who I 
thought more uv than anybody, so the best 
thing fer ye ter do is ter go back whar ye come 
frum an stay thar, I never wanter set eyes on 
the lacks uv ye agin, an so fer as I be con- 
sarned, ye kin take ver hat an start right now, 


224 


Quaker Jim 


fer I nicas ter tell ye, ye ner no other person’s 
ever agoiir ter git me ter go hack on my folks 
frum this day out.” “I second ever word what 
Mandy said, an I’ll put it a little stronger ef 
ye don’t clar yersef out purty quick, ye mout 
find yersef settin’ in the home uv bed-bugs an 
other critters,” said Snort. “An I be the man'll 
put ye thar, ding-be-dinged ef I don't,” put in 
Possum. Alten took his hat and walked to 
the door, turning and facing the crowd he said : 
“I shall never see any of you again, and Miss 
Gray, I shall repent all of my life for what I 
tried to do to you. I bid you all farewell.” 
“ 'Bout time ye was startin’ er the law will 
help ye on a lettle,” muttered Possum as 
Bragge walked out of the house. Snort walked 
up to his wife after the exit of Bragge and 
said: “Mandy, it fills my ole shirt boosem plum 
full uv joy at seem’ ye do this, and I know 
ye’ll be lack a good Injun now, kase ye’ve took 
yer last scalp and now ready ter turn yer toma- 
hawk over ter the gret .Spirit, who’ll stan’ by 
ye the rest uv yer days an see that ye meddle 
no more. He’ll change yet frum the bitin’ an 
scratchin’ wild cat ter the gentle house cat, an 
instid uv yer fur fiyhr at ever leetle thing it 
will lay as gentle as a lamb.” “Yes, John, my 
only ’sires frum this day out is ter make ye all 
happy,” Mandy answered. “Nellie an Bob, air 
ye sot on marryin’,” Snort asked. “We are,” 
Bob answered, “with your permission, as Mrs. 
Fox has given hers.” “Bob, ye rascal, when 
I got atter ye the day uv the social ye did’ent 
know nuthin’ tall ’bout it, did ye?” Snort asked 


Quaker Jim 


225 


with a chuckle. Nellie smiled and Snort said: 
“Ye need’ent be grinning ye done the same 
thing an ye kept it even frum Bertha, lease I 
quized her the las’ time she wuz over here an 
she swore by all the scalpin' Injuns that ever 
took a scalp she knowed nuthin’ ’bout it, and 
said she thought I must be ’stakin’, but ye 
can’t fool yer Uncle Snort on these silly crit- 
ters what be in love, kase they got a sartin 
sheepish look ’bout ’em somehow er ruther 
an it won’t come off.” “You will forgive us, 
won’t you, Uncle John?” Nellie asked. “Yes, 
I’ll let it go this time, but ef ye ever do it 
agin I won’t let ye marry anymore.” “We 
don't want to marry but once,” Nellie laugh- 
ingly said. “That’s so, ye’ve got the best uv 
me this time, but this is not ’xactly altogether 
what I called ye over fer.” “What else have 
you got to say, Uncle John?” “Wa’al, it’s 
Christmus, an things has been purty blue ’bout 
here all day, I think it’s right ter sorter cheer- 
ish yer spirits up a bit.’’ Possum, who was 
a close listener to the conversation, eyes im- 
mediately opened to their widest capacity, for 
truely he thought it meant a sup of the famous 
barley corn, which would be a soothing tonic 
for him just then. “I am in the best of spirits 
now, Mr. Fox.” “Not me,” muttered Possum, 
smacking his lips at the same time. “Wa’al, 
Bob,” continued Snort, “ye know I have al- 
ways done a little sumpin’ fer ye roun’ Christ- 
mus times an I hain’t goin’ ter disapint ye this 
time.” Reaching his hand into his hip pocket 
he pulled out an old torn note book, opening 


226 


Quaker Jim 


it he took out a hundred-dollar bill, and, pre- 
senting it to him, said: “I have been givin’ 

ye fifty fer a Christmus gift, but I'll make it a 
hundred this time, kase ye thought I had gone 
back on ye.” Taking from another pocket a 
beautiful locket he presented it to his Niece 
saying: “Nellie, I never ’tended ter give ye 

this till ye had picked yer ole man, an as ye 
say Bob’s the feller here it be with a place fer 
both uv yer pitures, so ye kin wear it now an 
have it ter remember yer ole Uncle Snort by 
when he is gone. It was a beautiful gold locket 
with a diamond set on one side and the in- 
scription “From Uncle John to Nellie” on the 
other. Bob and Nellie thanked John for the 
gifts, and Bob said to him : “Mr. Fox, you 

have given us these nice things, but you have 
never consented to our marriage.” Snort 
looked at his Niece for a moment, and with an 
Honest tear in his eye he turned to Bob and 
said : ‘Bob, my boy, take her an may the Good 
Lord bless ye both.” Nellie saw by her 
Uncle's emotion that as much as he thought 
of Bob, still he hated to give her over to him. 
Bob noticing Snort’s emotions could not but 
help feel for him, as he knew himself how hard 
it was to give up the ones you love. Possum 
finally got the much-desired draught and think- 
ing he would be of no more service either as 
an officer or company took his leave to spend 
the rest of the evening with the apple of his 
eye, Pigeon-Toed-Liz, and as he went out 
Snort placed a ten-dollar note in his hand, 
both for his service and as a present at the 


Quaker Jim 


227 


same time. Aunt Sarah, who had been told 
the good news by Possum as he left, rushed 
into the room like a mad woman, so over- 
joyed was she at finding out James was there 
and Handy had promised to let Nellie and Bob 
marry. Falling at the feet of James she asked: 
“Lawd, Mr. Funny Talkin’ man, is it so you 
be Marse James?” “Yes, Aunt Sarah, I am 
James. Do you see anything about me famil- 
iar?” “No, pawn my word an honor, I don’t, 
’ceptin’ de voice is lack him.” Pulling up his 
sleeve he exhibited a scar accidently inflicted 
by Sarah years before, and asked her, “Do 
you remember that?” “Laws, yes, I know it 
be Marse Jim now, kase Fd know dat ef it war 
among a million others jest lack it.” Sarah 
was told everything that happened during the 
evening by Nellie, and the poor old darkey 
was almost overcome with joy. Teebe, who 
had retired disappointed over his failure to 
increase the compensation for playing the joke 
on both Mandv and Bragge, was told of James’ 
return, the only comment he made was, he 
thought “James had stayed away long enuf 
and it war time he come back,” and turning 
over on his side went to sleep. James and 
Bob put on their coats and started to leave, 
but Mandy and Nellie would never hear of 
fames going from under their roof that night, 
they also insisted on Bob staying, but of 
course he could not leave his sister alone all 
night, and James had some very important 
business to transact early next morning, he, 
too, begged his leave, saying: “The day I 


228 


Quaker Tim 


longed for has at last come, I go now in peace, 
for my mission in life has been fulfilled. ” 
While James was saying these words “Old 
Shep” walked into the parlor, and gently wag- 
ging his tail lay down at his feet, as if he knew 
by instinct that James was the redeemer of 
Nellie, his affectionate mistress. When James 
Fox left the homestead on this Christmas night 
he had pulled the spear from its bleeding heart, 
gently lifted the crown of thorns from its 
weary head, clothed it in the garb of peace to 
journey on in this valley of tears. 


THE END. 


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